


Down to Earth

by NumptyPylon



Series: Downtime and Beyond [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Established Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Canon, Romance, Speculative S4, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 130,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NumptyPylon/pseuds/NumptyPylon
Summary: It's been 18 months since the battle of the Storm Spire, and the world is not okay. Viren was defeated, but there are new reports of dark magic in Xadia. The Breach between humans and elves is mending, but now the human lands are tearing themselves apart. Protecting the new world may prove even harder than it was to make it.Callum is torn between Katolis and Xadia, Ezran between inherent idealism and the realities of kingship, and Rayla does not know where she belongs at all.———Speculative 'Book 4: Earth' (Down to Earth) and 'Book 5: Ocean' (Down Below the Ocean).In the spirit of the show, this will attempt to strike a balance between drama and humor, light and dark, dealing with heavy themes, but maintaining an undercurrent of optimism.Sequel to 'Downtime in Wartime', but can be read independently.Includes chapter illustrations.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Ezran & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Ethari & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Rayla & Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Downtime and Beyond [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705993
Comments: 1442
Kudos: 548





	1. Prologue: Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

> This builds on the continuity and character development of my between-canon-episodes story [Downtime in Wartime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774909/chapters/54421612). However, since that story is very heavily tied to canon, you don’t need to read it to follow this one, but it provides extra context for some character beats in this story. If you did follow the other story, I hope you’ll like this too, it’ll be a bit different since I won’t stick to one pov and there’ll be more non-downtime since there’s an actual plot in this one. Still going to be majorly character driven though.
> 
> T rating is mostly for language - Rayla is a potty-mouth when Netflix isn’t watching and Amaya is a potty-mouth even when Netflix IS watching. Violence/gore will be canon-levels. There will be mildly suggestive content, nothing explicit at all. If you have questions, or would like me to warn for anything specific, just ask in the comments or you can send me a pm or ask on my tumblr @numptypylon 😊   
> I’m aiming to strike a somewhat similar tone to the show, a mix of humor and drama, light and heavy.
> 
> I post new chapters every Tuesday.
> 
> Without further ado, hope you enjoy:
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to do something a bit different for this prologue, which will cover the timeskip between the S3 finale and the beginning of my speculative S4 18 months later. There are 12 main character birthdays in those 18 months, so… let’s see what the characters get up to eh? Every birthday will have the birthday girl/boy as pov character.
> 
> Let me know how it works for you, it’s a bit of an experimental way of delivering exposition that will hopefully be entertaining.
> 
> Depending on where you’re from, this chapter may contain a bit of underage drinking, in my country it’s not, but eh, different strokes.

  
  


## Claudia 17 

10.22AM, June 16th, 998AB, Storm Spire Plains, Xadia

Her father hadn’t stirred. He was alive. Breathing. If that was enough to qualify for being alive. Claudia wasn’t sure. She was however, sure that she couldn’t be inside that cave anymore right now, looking at her father’s unmoving body or the pulsing chrysalis that used to be his little bug pal or the corpse that-

No. She had to get out. Just for a bit. It was her birthday. She got to treat herself. Claudia stepped out of the cave, into light, misty rain. The sky was soft grey, not dark or menacing, but casting gentle ambient light across the grassland. She walked briskly away, not towards the river where she got water or towards the battlefield where she got spell components, just… Away.

As she ascended up the hillier edge of the plains, the grasslands turned into low bushy undergrowth, unnatural bright orange against the muted green of the grass.

She was drawn to a hint of blue, the color out of place against the bright thorny bush around it. Cloth. But not just any. Katolis make. Expensive color. Fine weave. Familiar. Callum’s.

It was part of a sleeve, almost shredded. What had _done_ that? What had it done to the boy beneath? She had seen him, during the battle. Flashes of lightning without a primal stone. She had thought it wasn’t that important, that he had used some sort of artefact from the nexus, or sky sapphires or something.

But the look on Aaravos’ face when she had told him had been… hungry.

She was hungry too. The regular kind though.

But this was not that kind of birthday. There wouldn’t be any of Soren’s inedible scones or Ezran’s pile of back-up jellytarts for when people inevitably gave up on the scones, or Callum’s beautiful birthday cards.

17 was an important birthday in Katolis. The age of majority. She was an adult now.

So she put those thoughts where they belonged. Away.

* * *

## Callum 15 

6.32AM, July 15th, 998AB, The Storm Spire, Xadia

This was a really stupid way to start off your 15th birthday. It was going to be a good birthday too, he _really_ didn’t have anything to be that sad about. Rayla was next to him, clamped onto his right arm in her sleep, her face adorably smushed into his shoulder. Ibis was teaching him a really cool mist spell today, because Rayla had told him it was his birthday and ordered him to be nice, since as a Dragonguard she was technically his superior, while he was at the Storm Spire. And really, nothing very bad had happened, and yet he was a weepy mess first thing in the morning.

And now he had woken up his tired girlfriend, who needed the sleep. She blinked at him, bleary-eyed, but when she saw his face she immediately shuffled closer to hug him, her hands and lips against his wet cheeks.

“Hey, why are you crying on your birthday?”

“Sorry. Supposed to be a good day, right? I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Or the night before. And then I woke up, and Ez wasn’t here. He always woke me up on my birthday. He would sit on my stomach and bounce in a very uncomfortable way, and sing this terrible birthday song he made up until I got out of bed - literally just the word ‘happy birthday Callum’ repeated until the end of time.” And dad would join him with his actually good singing voice, terrible song aside… but he was not thinking of _that_ when he had _just_ stopped crying. “But he _was_ only 3 years old when he made it up, so-”

“Hey. It’ll happen again. It’s not the _end._ Just… a break? Next birthday maybe, we’ll be in Katolis? Only fair.” She pressed close to him. “And for this one, I’ll stand in for Ez. If you want me to.” That tease in her voice… she definitely knew how to distract him.

“No! _You_ straddling me would be a _very_ different experience. I think the cognitive dissonance might end me.” He laughed, the lump in his throat gone. The heavy feeling gone too.

“Believe me, my singing voice is so horrible, even you wouldn’t be able to think those kinds of thoughts.”

“Try me.” He said, a challenge of his own. And Rayla never did back down from a challenge.

Her singing wasn’t really that horrible. Untrained. A bit off key. But really nice. To him at least. And the way she flushed just slightly, embarrassed at showing him something she was not good at, but showing him anyway… Yeah, not an effective deterrent for those kinds of thoughts. At all.

* * *

## Rayla 16

8.39AM, July 31st, 998AB, The Storm Spire, Xadia

To Rayla of the Silvergrove, current address: The Storm Spire

It would please us greatly if you would join us for supper on the upcoming solstice. Our daughter has heard of your heroism and would like the chance to get to know you to ascertain if…

And there was a picture of the daughter in question, magically captured on the paper. She was beautiful and knew it, from the way she was smiling saucily and showing off her… assets.

“Callum, what do I _do?_ ” She was panicking. What were you supposed to say to this? She may officially be of marrying age as of today, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted- well, _definitely_ not to any Sunfire elves she had never met.

This whole thing was absurd. Her own village had denied the petition Ethari had made to un-banish her and Lux Aurea was sending thinly veiled marriage proposals.

And it was because she had killed a person, which was- no. Not going there now. She had done it to save Zym, but she had inadvertently also avenged the attack on Lux Aurea, and since then there had been occasional letters of thanks, invitations for parties and dinners, gifts… But this was new. And _horrible._ “You could say you already have a boyfriend?” Callum sounded just a bit miffed, and she couldn’t blame him.

“That word doesn’t mean anything to elves, remember? I could go?” She smirked at him, a little wryly, letting him know she wasn’t serious. “I’m sure that girl will lose interest when she actually meets me, and aren’t just basing her supposed feelings on some embellished secondhand account-”

“I think you’re vastly underestimating how fanciable you are.” He grumbled.

She buried her head in her hands. She had no idea about Sunfire customs. Moonshadow elves would have never been this direct or aggressive about such a delicate subject. She had followed Moonshadow customs in response to a few dinner offers, denying their requests so subtly it could not be construed as _rejection,_ but that had clearly been wrong, because they had read it as acceptance and followed up to set a date. But that was just offers of food and drink. This was offering a whole person. And she could not just ignore them, because she was one of the people responsible for this newborn peace, and offending Lux Aurea’s influential families would be a really dumb way to jeopardize what they’d-

“Hey.” His arms around her. He might have been annoyed, but he always put her first. She leaned into him. “You don’t have to deal with it right now. Surely these people don’t expect you to spend your birthday sorting through unwanted… offers?”

“It’s definitely not how _I_ want to spend my birthday.”

“And that’s what matters. At least for today. I’ll write to Kazi, supposedly an expert on Sunfire culture and language. Janai gave me their contact information in case of exactly this type of thing. And we’ll put the letter away until we get their advice. Okay?”

“Okay. Yeah.”

“It’s not though? Okay, I mean. You want to talk about it?”

“No. It’s not okay. It’s all wrong that people who don’t know me are bending over backwards to offer me things and the people who _do_ know me want nothing to do with me. It… hurts. Ethari… tried but…”

“I’m sorry. Your village don’t know what they’re missing. I don’t get it. But the appeal has already been sent, along with letters from three monarchs urging the council to reconsider. It’ll pass.”

“And when it does? That just means they caved to political pressure. Not that anyone but Ethari wants me to come home. I don’t know if _I_ want to go home. I don’t know if it _is_ home. Even though I still think of it that way, it’s like… a habit. An instinct that doesn’t fit reality anymore, like-” Like when Callum forgot he could fly and just stood there, trying to figure out how to scale cliffs or climb trees.

“Rayla.” Deep and familiar voice.

She looked up, vision blurry but… it was him. “Ethari!” She threw herself at him. “You’re here,” she hiccupped.

“It’s your birthday. Of course I am.”

“No… I mean- I can see you. I thought the village voted against it?”

“They did. I broke my part of it.” That was taboo. An individual did not go back on a vow made collectively. Ethari would be a social pariah for years, and he had already lost his family. She didn’t know what to say to that, just squeezed him tighter.

* * *

## Amaya 34 

9.09PM, August 21st, 998AB, Lux Aurea, Xadia

 _Happy birthday._ Janai signed. Clumsy but… it was sweet. _She_ was sweet under the aggression and the denial. Janai was _shy_ beneath the bluster and temper. It was a good thing Amaya wasn’t, or nothing would have ever come of the very obvious attraction between them.

 _Come here._ She smirked, and gestured her closer, a mirror of back on a rooftop at the Breach, when they had been enemies. Now the gesture meant something very different. Janai reached up to remove the heavy golden crown, before stepping closer. The weight of it did not leave her however. Amaya’s hand swept along the beautiful, strong lines of her cheek and neck to settle on her shoulder. _What is wrong?_ She asked.

 _It was a long day._ Janai let her shoulders slump, as she never would have with the crown on. _And I’m not a good fit for a queen._ She signed.

 _A strange fit, maybe. Not the same as not good. WE are a very strange fit, no? And not just because our parts don’t interlock._ She made a gesture with her hands that made Janai blush as she knew it would, sweet tinge across her dark cheeks. She reached out to her hand to intertwine their fingers. _But some of our parts do interlock. Some times, you just have to look harder to find the fit. Maybe you are not a good fit for a queen, but you are GOOD. You look past the surface before judging, before deeming someone useless. Or lesser than. That part fits a queen of this new world._ Janai was not a fluent signer, although she was improving fast. She was not sure she got all of it. She should probably sum it up in simple words.

_I like the way you fit the throne. Fit the world. Fit me._

* * *

## Soren 19

2.12AM, January 19th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

Soren felt the effect of ale number eleven too keenly, as he steadied himself against the bale of hay at the back of the stables. Hay was the best. Especially nice sturdy bales of it like this one.

Oh. His boss was sitting on the hay, smiling sweetly down at him. Ezran did like it here, he knew. But it was… late. And the king was hanging out in the stables alone. And he was a Crownguard. A drunk and pretty terrible Crownguard.

“Hi Ezran. Sorry, I’m… not really fit for Crownguard duties right now?”

“I know. It’s your day off tomorrow because it’s your birthday. Actually, it’s your birthday _today,_ since it’s after midnight. So happy birthday! Anyway, you’re not my Crownguard right now. That’s okay.”

“If you’re here on your own, it’s really not.”

“The horses are here?”

“Doesn’t count. They’re not part of the Crownguard. And they’re also horses. But mostly the first one.”

“Can’t _I_ hire new Crownguards?”

“Uh. Yes? Since you’re… the crown.”

“Great!” Ezran turned to the horse next to him. “Bella! I hereby pronounce you honorary Crownguard. Your pay will be extra scritches and a carrot, when I remember to bring them. So I’m fine now Soren. You can go to bed. You look pretty tired.” Bella the horse nuzzled Ezran’s ear with her soft muzzle. “Or you can stay here with me as a friend. Not a Crownguard.”

“I’ll do that. The last one.” He said without hesitation. He wouldn’t be hanging out in the stables if his empty bed in the barracks held any attraction to him. He had kind of hoped his bed would not be empty tonight, but no luck, he had struck out pretty definitively. “Must be nice, being Callum. Bed hardly ever empty.” Oops, he had said that last bit out loud.

He glanced at Ezran. The boy did not look scandalized. “Yeah, I miss sharing a room with Callum. My bed is Rayla’s bed now. Officially anyway. Unofficially, her bed is Callum’s bed, like you said. And my dad’s bed is my bed now. It’s like musical chairs. Or musical beds.” The boy looked down sadly. Here he was complaining about an empty bed because he had struck out at the tavern, and this poor kid’s bed was empty because his dad was dead. His dad was dead too. But that was different. He was an adult, or supposed to be, at least.

“I’m sorry. That must suck.” Oops. You were not supposed to use language like that in front of little kids. Or little kings. “Sorry. I swear more when I’m drunk. Do you think you could forget I said that?”

“Said what?” Ezran winked. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about that. I know way worse words than that. And you’re not my Crownguard right now, Bella has clocked in. So there’s no rules for what kind of words you have to use. You heard any good ones at the tavern tonight? I’m always trying to learn new ones. I teach them to Aanya, and in return she teaches me the fancy politic-y words.”

“Aanya. _Queen_ Aanya?” She was so _proper._

“Yeah. She’s cool. She knows a lot of words, but she says uh… ‘her insight into colloquialisms is comparatively insubstantial’. That means she doesn’t know enough swear words, basically. So I’m helping her out. So, you heard any?” The kid looked so hopeful. And that was the sweetest reason he had ever heard for learning swear words.

“Well, Sigrid called me an ‘ass with ears’ today. Never heard that one before. Not the best I’ve heard though. Uh, I am gonna have to not tell you the really bad ones.” Nothing with… sex stuff. Or anti-elf stuff. That did rule out quite a lot. “And you also can’t tell Callum. Okay. Here goes. Reverted bumhole. Moldy skid mark. Wilted crotch weed. Dangling pubic berries. Sweet candied Banther balls-”

“Ooh, I _know_ that one!” Ezran looked triumphant. “The others are new though! Thank you! It’s really hard to learn new ones, everyone’s always so careful what they say around me. Sometimes it really does suck. Being king.”

“Is that why you’re down here? To… _not_ be king for a while?” The not-king-right-now looked down. Oh. He put his foot in something. But when Ezran looked up, his blue eyes were hopeful, and he was smiling.

“Soren? Would you like to sleep in my bed? It’s really big. There _too_ much room. I don’t care if you snore, or you’re hungover tomorrow. I’ll order the fluffy omelets you like, and bread and lots of butter for breakfast and extra jellytarts, and we can have a birthday party in my room. As not-King and not-Crownguard.”

“Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

* * *

## Ezran 11 

5.29AM, March 19th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

Taps against his window led Ezran to the land of the living somewhat prematurely. It was definitely still night. Or maybe _very_ early morning? Either way, it was no time to be anywhere but in bed.

Taps. Again. Ezran looked out the window, and felt half a second of instinctive panic before the laughter overtook him.

With the brown wings and the owl mask, half obscured in the dim of pre-dawn, Callum might have looked scary if the whole thing wasn’t so funny. He forgot the barely lightening sky and that he didn’t actually have to get up for hours. The fake beak of the mask tapped at his window again.

There was a note on the floor in pretty green ink, pushed through the crack.

Dear Ezran,

Happy birthday! Follow your wizard guide, and he will take you on a magical journey beyond your wildest taffy-hippo dreams!

Ezran opened the window to let in his dorky owl-brother, and was immediately engulfed in a feathery hug. Wing hugs were the best, even this early in the morning.

“What’s all this about?” He asked, laughing happily. Whatever it _was_ about, it would be _fun._

“It’s not everyday your young man turns 11, is it?” Callum said, affecting someone older with a much deeper voice. Was that supposed to be his owl-voice?

“Why are you talking like that? Owls don’t talk like that,” Ezran giggled.

“Owls are old and wise. Everyone knows that!”

“They’re really not. Crows are way smarter. Owls have really tiny brains under all those feathers. I guess it suits-”

“Hey! Respect your owl messenger young whippersnapper!” Callum’s old-man or old-owl voice was so bad it was… well, not good, but definitely hilarious.

“Sorry. It’s really, really early. And it’s my birthday. I get to be a brat on my birthday.” He stuck out his tongue at his owl-brother.

“Yes. It’s your birthday until noon. Then it’s the king of Katolis’ birthday. Processions, delegates to greet… pomp and circumstance. You get it now?” He got it. He got it _way_ too much. A whole morning of just being Ez was the best gift he could have possibly gotten. His chest filled with bubbly excitement. And Rayla had definitely been involved in the plan, so it would be _epic!_

“Yes! I have six hours of Ez’s birthday!”

“Exactly! And _you’re_ invited!” Callum spread his wings out impressively, reminding Ezran of this particularly pompous and flamboyant Duren ambassador, when he introduced people or things. Or the snack table. Or the new carriages. Or- Never mind.

“Uh, duh. Of course I’m invited to my own birthday.”

“Shush, I’m trying to be theatrical. Rayla should have done this bit but she’s busy with the preparations, and I can only carry one of you anyway.” Callum straightened up, displacing the ridiculous owl mask a bit. That seemed to remind him of something. He dispelled the wings to pull off the owl mask, and retrieved a somewhat squished pointy hat to replace it, like the evil elven sorcerers wore in the storybooks. Primal mages, he corrected himself. Not evil sorcerers. He should commission some new storybooks. The hats could stay though. Wizard hats were cool. Not on Callum, true, but Callum was a coolness deterrent, that didn’t count. In general, they were cool. “I’m no longer your owl messenger! I’m your wizard guide! Here to carry you to a _magical-_ ” Callum managed to control airflow _while_ talking, to whip his cloak up dramatically. Okay, that _was_ actually pretty cool. “-birthday adventure!”

“Will there be cake? Or adoraburrs? Or pumpkin juice?” He bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“Pumpki- Why would _anyone_ want that? And it’s spring, what pumpkins?”

“It just sounded magical for some reason.”

“There’s… juice. We can pretend it’s made from pumpkins.” Callum relented.

“That works!”

“Then, let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” Callum proclaimed dramatically. He definitely got that from a book, he was not that eloquent. But it didn’t matter.

Adventure was afoot!

* * *

## Viren 46 

12.54PM, April 11th, 999AB, The Midnight Desert, Xadia

He saw them in the distance. Shapes. Husks. Like him.

The sun beat down on the dark sand, he could see it affecting Claudia. He did not feel it like she did, he was still… affected, but it was like watching his own struggles from the outside. Unpleasant, but not personal. Like most of his experiences now.

But Claudia was struggling in her dark robes, her boots so worn the sand must be burning her through the soles. This was not right. He had succeeded for almost 17 years to let her do what was her right untethered from guilt and shame. It was her right as his child to have what she wanted. Easy and unburdened. And he had failed at that. He saw both the burden and the guilt in her now. His efforts to provide the world and the resources they deserved had only increased the struggle.

“Hey dad. How much further?” She was gasping for breath, dry hot air all she was getting. This desert was like the world Harrow had offered him, barren, resources far between, requiring struggle and sacrifice to get. It was wrong that it was like this. He had seen the shadow of what he thought had been a very large bird earlier, but upon closer inspection, it had been a Skywing elf, off in the distance, soaring above the hot sands and the husks and the serpents and the struggle of humanity. That was how it was supposed to be. Ease and grace. The world beneath you, ripe for the harvest.

“Not too much further. The Oasis is up ahead. Don’t worry. This is the hard part.” It always was. Getting the resources was hard. Everything else was easy.

* * *

## Zym 1 

2.46PM, May 21st, 999AB, The Storm Spire, Xadia

“Hey Zym.” His favorite Dragonguard. Zym yipped to greet her. Rayla. He had been trying to say it, Ray-la, but words were hard. Easy in his head and hard when saying them. She leant against him. He wanted to get into her lap, but everyone told him he was too big, so that must be true. He was too big.

He yipped again. Stared firmly at Rayla. She didn’t understand. She understood he was sad they were leaving, because she hugged him. But she didn’t understand he wanted to come. He could carry her now. Not far, but he could. And he could fly to Katolis, and meet Ezran again. He was better at flying than Callum. Callum got tired faster, because he wasn’t a dragon meant for flying. “We’ll be back, okay Zym. But there are things we need to do. We need to make a world for you to live in, me and Callum. And we can’t do that from here.”

He nuzzled her hair and whined. Cocked his head, a question. She understood. “You can’t come Zym, I’m sorry. You need to stay with your mum.” It had been fun, travelling with her and Callum and his very first friend, Ezran. He was still in his egg, and his mom hadn’t talked to him in months, he had been all alone. And Ezran, Ez, had talked to him, and told him he was going to be okay, and that him and his friends were taking him back to his mom. And they had. But Ez had to go, and be king like he did, except Ez didn’t have a mom like him, so he had to be king _now,_ and not when he was bigger. Ezran sent letters sometimes, full of fun stories about the people in the castle where he lived, far away. Callum or Rayla read them to him, because words on paper were even harder than words in his mouth.

He cocked head in question again. “Isssss,” he said, a kind of hissing noise. It wasn’t right. It was supposed to be Ez. It wasn’t right, he couldn’t even say it, and he missed his friend so much. “Issss.”

Rayla cupped his cheeks. “What are you trying to say Zym?” Patient. That was hard for her. But she was almost always patient with him. Kind. That was easy for her. She was kind to almost everyone, except the mean Dragonguard, who said her and Callum were an abo-mi-na-tion. He didn’t know that word, but it had made Rayla very angry and sad when she heard, so he didn’t like it.

“Issss.” It still wasn’t right. “Esssss.” Closer! He looked excitedly at Rayla. Her face lit up. She understood!

“Ez?” she asked, a wide smile spreading on her face.

He nodded. “Yeah. We’re going to go see Ez. And he’ll be so happy to hear you said his name! I know you miss him. Callum and I don’t understand what you’re saying like he does.” He licked her face, only a little zappy. Her and Callum understood what he was saying better than almost anyone except his mom. And understood what he was feeling, sometimes better than his mom. She smiled at him and scratched his mane like he liked it, understanding his feelings, like always. “Thanks Zym. I try.”

* * *

## Claudia 18 

5.21PM, June 16th, 999AB, Bronach Foothills, Xadia

“Claudia. It is your birthday today.” She had stopped wondering how Aaravos knew things. He just did. Especially the things she didn’t want him to. “You’re wondering about what it would be like, this birthday, if you had made a different choice. It is natural to want these things, customary for birthdays. Good food. Fizzy drinks. Fun. _Company_.” The way he said ‘company’ was so suggestive, even _she_ got what he meant, and she knew she usually needed these kinds of things spelled out for her.

“It’s not really important though. When it’s nothing I can have it’s just a waste of energy.” She said. She was not in the mood for his games today.

“Ahhh. But you can.” Aaravos said, all smoothness. “That’s the point. You can have anything you desire. There is another thing that is customary for birthdays. Gifts. And I have one for you.”

His hand was soft and warm on hers, and if she didn’t look at it, she could pretend it was human and not whatever Aaravos was now. Giant bugpal?

The magic washed over her, balmy feeling, moon primal then. An illusion. She felt it, the tactile part of it. The slight weight on her skull. She reached up her hands to feel the new horns, rough texture, graceful shape flowing backwards from the crown of her head, feel her ears now tapering to a point.

She looked at her hands. Four fingers. Purplish tone to the pale skin. Swirling purple markings along the backs of her hands. She touched a strand of hair, still white, but not the limp textured, matte absence of pigment resulting from dark magic use, but shiny, luminous white, like Rayla’s had been. He had made her Moonshadow. Of all the elf races, _why?_ But she knew why. And Aaravos knew why. His gifts were never simple.

“There is a large Earthblood settlement a few miles away, as you know. It has multiple establishments you might enjoy. I will tell your father you are out foraging. See you tomorrow morning. Have… _fun._ ”

* * *

## Callum 16 

11.59PM, July 15th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

“Soren!” Callum hung onto Soren’s arm. He was nice and sturdy. That was good, because the world was all weird and spinny for some reason.

“Hey buddy. How many cups of cider have you had?” Soren asked. He sounded a bit worried, which was weird because this was a _party…_

“Pfff, _that’s_ not important!” Soren really was silly sometimes. Who wanted to do complicated math right now? And he didn’t have enough fingers anyway, even with the pinkos. And there were waaaay more important things. Soren should know. It was… _pertinent_ information _._ “You know… I jus’… really love my girlfriend. She’s like this… delicious jellytart. The most delicious and sweet thing of jam you could imagine, with the crunchiest crust. You know I like the crusts crunchy?”

“Uh, Rayla is a jellytart? I’m not sure I’m following you here.”

“IT’S A METAPHOR!” Wow, his voice was loud.

“Shut it, loud mage! It’s midnight, no one still awake cares about metaphors!” The delicious jellytart in question shouted at him from the other side of the room.

“Sweet. Yeah. I see that.” Soren said. He sounded weird though, like he was imitating his jellytart when she was all crust. “Uh, that was sarcasm by the way. Did it work? I’ve been practicing!”

“Yeah! That was really, really amazing Soren! Anyway, it’s a metaphor.” He whispered. “Like, the crust is this confidence and… and bravado thing she does. All backflippy and smirky and pretty. But under the confidence crust, there’s this sweet, soft, mushy jelly of sweetness. The way she smiles at me in the morning, when she’s just woken up and maybe the crust hasn’t finished baking yet, so it’s easier to see. But I can see it all the time. Jus’ have to look.”

“Wow, that’s actually really nice.” Soren said, smiling all doofy and longing. He should really help Soren find his own jellytart-person. Or maybe a jellytart would not be right for Soren? Maybe he needed someone where the mushiness was easier to see, because Soren sometimes didn’t manage see beneath the surface, though he was trying to. But there should be something strong at the core, because Soren needed someone to bear his weight when he was sad, and he was sooo heavy. One of those pretty cheesecakes from Duren, with the softly whipped cream on top but crunchy caramel and nuts at the bottom.

Yeah. When the world stopped spinning, he would have to find Soren a cheesecake-person.

* * *

## Rayla 17 

11.29AM, July 31st, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

Rayla awoke to an achy body and head, her mood somehow tanked before the day had even begun. The sun through the windows was almost at zenith. Stupid blood loss. She had slept way too long.

“Happy birthday!” Callum sounded annoyingly chirpy this morning. Or noon, as it were. “How are you feeling? I’ll go get you breakfast, just tell me what you’d like.”

He leant over her to press his lips to hers, but leaning no weight on her, his touch light and gentle. Frustratingly so. Even his kiss was gentle, sweet and careful, but not what she wanted right now.

“Agh. Let’s just get going.” She said, pushing herself upright with a wince. He didn’t deserve her grumpiness, but she was failing miserably at putting on a happy face. “Stuff to do, right? The delegates are leaving today and we should go-”

“What? No. You’re on bedrest, the doctor said.” His hands found her shoulders, but his touch was still light. He would never try to physically stop her, even though her body was such a stupid floppy thing right now that he could have very easily.

“For a few days, the doctor said. It happened a few days ago. So I’m good.”

“It happened late in the evening, the day before yesterday. By the time the doctor told you ‘a few days’ it was past midnight. So you were told that yesterday. It has _not_ been a few days.”

“A few days is between one and two. So it has.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The movement hurt as it tore at the stitches, but damnit he didn’t have to know that.

But he noticed. He always did. She didn’t _want_ to hide things from him, he was just so _fussy_ sometimes, and- “No. A few days is at least two. Ask anyone! It’s usually two to three, but it’s definitely not one! And the doctor didn’t say ‘a few days’ he said ‘ _at least_ a few days’ and that absolutely does not, in any conceivable way, translate to _one_ day.” He was getting heated now.

“That’s just conjecture,” she said.

“Could you please just relent, for once in your life, so we don’t have to argue? You’re hurt and it’s your birthday. Do you really think I _want_ to argue with you? Because I promise that I don’t. But your well-being is a lot more important than you being annoyed with me. And in this case, you can name absolutely anyone, and I’ll bring them here, and they’ll agree with me.” He had gone over to the window, opening it. “Oi! Corvus! How many days are a few days?” He shouted.

“Two or three!” Came Corvus’ exasperated voice from the open window.

“See? Corvus is an unbiased and sensible third party.” He said stubbornly, even as his cheeks reddened at what he had just done.

“I don’t want to spend my birthday in bed. Not like _this,_ anyway, a useless wet rag, and you barely daring to touch me.” Her eyes were stinging. This was silly and childish and she _knew_ it. And she was worrying him _more,_ she could tell. And now the sting in her eyes were wetness on her cheeks, and that was guaranteed to make him fold immediately which was just not fair when she was the one being unreasona-

He pulled her to him, hard enough to hurt. He noticed though, like he always did, and loosened his grip, but a least it was still a firm hold and not the too-careful delicacy of the past day. Days that was. Few days… ah fuck it. Day. Singular. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. His hands across her hair and back, comfort she didn’t deserve. “Hey. What’s the _real_ reason?” He asked gently. She knew what the reason was. It was at the edge of her consciousness, she had carefully not looked directly at it, but-

“I messed up… in front of all those people. They’re leaving today, and I have to fix how they see me.” Didn’t he get that? It wasn’t like she cared personally, but you had to care a little bit, when you were trying to openly date the crown prince. She was being judged all the time, and messing up her dodge, getting blood all over the fancy dance floor and some surprisingly understanding noblewoman’s dress, and then disappearing for _multiple days_ , just because she got mildly stabbed… that was not the impression she had wanted to give.

“There’s nothing to fix! You saved Ez, their _king_ , you got hurt doing it, how is there anything wrong with that?!” He was all indignant on her behalf now, like he got sometimes, but he didn’t quite get it. That there was indeed something wrong with that. She wasn’t sure she did either, not all the way. She just felt it. A vague feeling of not fitting what people wanted of her. It was okay though. His opinion was more important than foreign nobles’. And she didn’t want to argue with him anymore either or make him worry. And she really _didn’t_ feel very good. She kissed his neck lightly. He kissed the top of her head.

“Okay.” She relented. “I’ll stay in bed. It’s not fair though, you got to have fun on _your_ birthday.” She grumbled. She had to put him at ease, since she was responsible for the tension and worry still in his body. Complaining about something petty and unimportant was a good way to do it. And her heart was lifting anyway, just because his arms were such a very nice place to be.

“I had a bit _too_ much fun.” A smile was tugging at his lips. “And it _will_ be fun. Sedentary fun is not your favorite, I know, but give it a chance, okay? I found a book you’ll really like, it has all kinds of gruesome dismemberment. And Ez is coming as soon as he’s bid the delegates goodbye, and he’s bringing boardgames and jellytarts - moonberry flavored, special order! And there are gifts. And one of those delegates you claim won’t like you, sent you expensive Evenerean chocolate, and because it’s your birthday I didn’t eat any of it even though you slept for a really long time, so can we please have some now? I’ve been waiting _hours,_ ” he whined dramatically, but smiling against her ear.

“Really? You want a boyfriend-of-the-year award for not eating my chocolate for a couple of hours? And not for leaping off a mountain?” She grinned widely at him, her bad mood just a memory now.

“That was more than a year ago now. Got to enter new feats of heroism for _this_ year’s competition.” He said in mock self-importance, drawing back to kiss her. His hand at her waist was still careful, light touch with no tugging at her, avoiding the bandages, but his lips were firm and passionate against hers. Really, there was no competition. None at all.

And as sedentary fun went, even as birthdays went, his plan sounded… really good.

* * *

## Amaya 35 

8.31PM, August 21st, 998AB, Forest of Eagallach, Xadia

Gren handed her the flask. The good stuff. _Happy birthday general. It’s my pleasure to spend it with you again._ They had spent the last… oh she was getting old, because Gren had been too young for the good stuff on the first of her birthdays they had spent together, and he was 25 now. Many birthdays, was the point. Except her last one, where she had been in Lux Aurea with Janai. _How was your last birthday?_ Gren asked, understanding what she said and not said as unfailingly as ever.

 _Good. Good food. Good company._ Gren smiled widely at this. _More… festive mood. Less worry._ The rumors they were investigating here were… sinister. They had seen the signs of dark magic use earlier today, a whole section of forest withered and blackened, plants and trees still there, but the life gone, only husks remaining.

One of their elven scouts, Aeni, had yet to return. She was trustworthy, Janai had assured her when she assigned a few handpicked soldiers to her, to help investigate this. And there were no taverns or other distractions around, nothing but forest. She could have run afoul of hostile wildlife, but… no. She should have made it back. She was not the only one feeling this way either. The company was small enough that the absence of one was felt, especially Aeni, who used to sing for them every night. She liked it when Aeni sang, though she could not hear it, she liked seeing the change that it brought across the faces of the people who could - the rapt attention, the wondrous soft smiles. The faces were different now. The mood different. The forest felt threatening in a way it had not yesterday.

Gren’s face was as cheerful as ever. To almost anyone, that was. Not to her. He was 17 when he was assigned as her translator. He had grown up an only child with just his deaf father, until his father had died and Gren went directly into her service because he had nowhere else to go. She had learned to see it, the most minute cracks in the cheerfulness. There had been fewer, as the years passed, but they were there tonight.

Gren did not say what she already knew, that it was Viren. Or Claudia. But probably both. There was nothing definitive, but a lot of small things adding up until there was only one possible piece left that fit. Viren.

* * *

Here’s aged-up character designs for the main trio. There’s a timeskip of 18 months, so I based height predictions based on that and their starting heights and ages from the chart at the website.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, wow this thing was hard to write! But hey, look at me writing povs besides Callum with varying degrees of success! 8 of them just in this chapter. Turns out that’s a terrible idea, do not recommend it :D
> 
> On top of that I’m clearly not very good at writing drabbles. Didn’t help that I had to do 12 of them, but still, it was supposed to be 300-500 words per birthday, but it’s more like 300-1000, because a couple of them took off on me. Oops.
> 
> Up next: S4 begins proper. 18 months after the battle of the Storm Spire, we catch up to the main cast


	2. 4.1 Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I'm really happy everyone seemed to enjoy the slightly unorthodox prologue!
> 
> The story itself won't change povs nearly that much, but mostly follow the main trio, same as the show. It WILL change povs though, just so happens the first few chapters are Callum pov, but it won't stay that way.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

6.42AM, December 14th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

The moon was waning, but it was only a few days from full, and despite the chill of winter and pre-dawn, the warmth from the gibbous moon above kept Callum comfortable, even exposed as he was on the roof of the tallest tower. Perks of the moon arcanum.

He took a drink of fizzy, chilled moonberry juice, deeming the carbonation acceptable. Perks of the sky arcanum.

It was not warm enough for him to particularly crave chilled, fizzy drinks, but Rayla loved them, and he could never refuse her much of anything, even if those tiny bubbles took a disproportionate amount of work to produce. The ice was easy, he had been able to sufficiently control Aspiro Frigis for ages. The fizz was _hard._ You had to separate components of the air you could not see, only feel, that really only made up a tiny portion of the air around them.

And he was proud of the fizz. Not just because he had basically invented this way of producing it, but because of what that fizz meant. A new world. He had had to demonstrate the ability to separate the components of the air to get into the advanced classes at the sky magic academy of Mons Nubis. Most of his classmates had separated the oxygen. Depriving your enemies of that could be a pretty effective battle tactic. He had served the examinators fizzy drinks instead. They had been grumpy about that, because his actions were definitely seen as some sort of rebellion, but he had passed with full marks. There was a lot less fizz than oxygen in the air. It was much, _much_ harder. But it was important to him. They were trying to build a world where you did _not_ have to train your children to kill, like Rayla had been.

He could have tried to fake the fizz with moon magic, but he was pretty new at it, and it probably would not have been convincing. And Rayla, traumatized from being his test subject in early edible illusion experiments, would have refused to partake. The mouth was a _sensitive_ organ. The most minute details being off in the tactile illusion resulted in a very eldritch and off-putting experience.

Made him appreciate what Lujanne could do with food. He had been too grossed out by the thought of eating slimy grubs to appreciate it when he had first experienced it, but now… to fool _all_ five senses at once, to so convincingly emulate not just the appearance and taste and smell, but also the consistency and the sound when biting into it? He had a way to go. Real fizz was hard, but fake fizz was even harder.

He heard Rayla’s labored breaths shortly before she pulled herself over the ledge onto the roof. Flying was a faster route to the roof than climbing, but Rayla enjoyed the exercise.

She plonked herself down next to him, and took a long drink from the glass he offered her. The delighted look on her face was really worth the trouble and more. She smiled brightly at him, cheeks flushed from the climb, eyes and skin luminous in the moonlight.

She licked the glistening red drops of moonberry juice off her lips, deliberate and shameless really, especially for this hour of the morning.

Turned out fizz was less pleasant when it was coming out your nose.

“Sorry!” She laughed, not looking contrite at all. She leant over to place a tiny kiss on his stinging nose.

He wiped his face on his tunic, since it was already stained with the red juice.

“Are you ready?” She asked.

“For Ez? Of course. The reports are obvious. It’s Viren. Ez will understand we have to leave right as fast as possible. It threatens everything.” Ez wouldn’t like having to say goodbye so soon or that they were skipping out on the first gathering of representatives of _all_ five kingdoms since the Battle of the Spire. But he would understand. And Callum was ready to talk to him, he had to.

“No. For Viren. For… change.” For strife and hardship and potentially another war, was what she was not saying. The past year-and-a-half since the battle of the Spire had not been exactly _un_ eventful, but still. It had been peace. The peace had held, not easily or without challenge to it, but it had held.

“Are you?” He asked cautiously. He knew it was not just important to her, it was also _personal_. She had killed him and now he was alive. It was not her failure and he had said that to her and she tried to listen, she did, but… she didn’t feel it or believe it. In addition, there was Viren’s _collection_ that he had taunted her with, during their battle at the top of the Spire. His notes and books had held no indication as to what that meant, the closest thing to a clue had come from Gren of all people. Viren had not just killed Runaan, he had done some sort of horrific ritual on him and it was almost certainly connected.

Rayla looked at him, unwavering. “We can take him. Did it once.” And she would have died to accomplish it. He would really rather not go there again. Rayla’s smirk was just a little halfhearted, but she found her bravado like she most often did. Shared it with him, like she _always_ did. “It’ll be like old times, traipsing though the wilderness, arguing about bread, being chased by evildoers… but it’ll be better! Soren will not be chasing us this time, he’ll be _with_ us.” But Ez wouldn’t be with them. Rayla continued her sales pitch for the upcoming quest undeterred, however. “And there’ll be less unresolved romantic tension and more make-out breaks. It’ll be a fun, wholesome adventure for the whole family.”

“How wholesome are we talking here?” He grinned, grateful for the distraction and for her. Rayla never let him stay in his head for too long.

The way she smiled at him was really not wholesome at all. “You may have to put a different shirt on. You know _I_ like it, but think of the children...” Her fingers traced up his bare arms, across the sky runes painted there.

“Hey! Your pants are way more distracting than anything _I’m_ wearing! Really, your _everything_ is more distracting! My poor nose is still paying the price for how distracti-”

She stopped him with a finger on his lips. Stepped close to him, looking deep into his eyes. “Callum.” She said, firm imperative.

“Make-out break?” He asked, smiling widely against her finger.

She nodded. He obliged.

It was possibly progressing just a bit past the ideal level of wholesomeness for what was technically a public place, but they _were_ on the roof and it was _very_ early…

“Ding ding ding ding ding!” Soren’s overly loud and cheerful voice startled him out of his Rayla-induced haze of good feelings. “DING DING!” At least Soren didn’t have the actual official Crownguard captain bell with him that Ez had so kindly gifted him, but still. He could be plenty noisy all on his own, even from across the courtyard, where the crest of the battlements allowed him a line of sight to their position.

“Soren the sun is not even up! Why are _you_ up?” Callum shouted back to him, annoyed, as he very abruptly retracted his hands from their less than wholesome position. Rayla’s eyes had widened, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She was still a lot more private about these things than him, and he wasn’t sure Soren really got that, because Rayla was so markedly _not_ shy in most other matters.

“Early morning thigh-burn is the best! Anyway, Ezran sent me to get you, Callum! He has early meetings and needs to talk to you before then. You can… finish what you were doing though! It’s not _that_ much of a rush!”

“You kind of killed the mood you know! Just tell Ez I’ll be there!” Callum shouted at him.

“Sorry!” Soren went back down the stairs.

He looked at Rayla a bit regretfully. “Sorry. I should go. Ez has a really busy day, I probably shouldn’t keep him.”

She smiled, and reached out to fix the probably lost cause that was the state of his hair and clothes. Her fingers stilled on his cheek after carding through his rumbled hair. “I think this is as good as it gets. You really shouldn’t have let _me_ cut your hair.”

He kissed her palm, then her still-flushed cheek. “Ah it’s okay, I have no one I need to impress. You already like me.” She looked surprisingly somber at that. He thought it had been pretty good. For _him_ , it was definitely an above average attempt at flirting. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Just… Ez doesn’t have that luxury. You know? Not having to impress anyone. Remember that. Okay? When you talk to him.”

“Sure? I mean, I get that he’s under a lot of pressure right now. Anyway, I should go.” He emptied his glass while he still had hands, then summoned his mage wings and took off, leaving Rayla on the roof to enjoy the sunrise and the last of the fizzy moonberry juice.

He looked out over the misty dawn sky over the castle as he soared, the first rays of sunlight hitting the roof tops, painting the world in soft pink and gold. The balmy warmth of the moon was leaving, but was replaced with a new day dawning over a new world. Of making fizz, not war, hopefully.

That was why they had to deal with Viren _now,_ and not after he had amassed another army.

* * *

It was _not_ going well. What had started as a ‘discussion’ had somehow bypassed ‘argument’ and was rapidly approaching ‘fight’.

“Callum, I _am_ listening to you,” Ez said, the frustration building in him clear to Callum despite Opeli’s lessons in kingly restraint. “I _do_ get that we have to do something about Viren. But _you_ don’t. You’re the crown prince and you should be at the gathering. You’re needed _here._ ”

“Ez, you’re doing great! You’ll do fine without me. And Viren is a threat, not only to the people around him but to the stability of the world we’re trying to build. We cannot let a dark mage run rampant around Xadia, you do get that? And we know where he is! Amaya’s reports were clear, you’ve read them. So _how_ can you think it’s more important for me to stand around shaking hands with awful people who want to hold onto their outdated opinions more than they want to see their children to live to adulthood?”

“You don’t think this is important? It was hard getting to this point Callum! Everyone is so mad. At Katolis, at the elves. Katolis is strong now, compared to the other kingdoms. Too strong. There’s one obvious weakness. Me. The crown.” He gave Callum a very pointed look. “And the line of succession.”

“You’re not weak Ez! You’ve shown that time and again.” It was not like Ez to be insecure like this. That was kind of his thing, although less so lately. “And I’m not either.” Callum added, a little defiantly. He _wanted_ it to not be his thing. It was not a nice thing, insecurity.

“I’m a kid! Who already abdicated once! It’s not about what you or I see. It’s what the other kingdoms see. Weakness. A child king. The only heir a flighty teenager somewhere off in Xadia doing gods know what.”

“I’m not _flighty._ ” He complained. Although a smile was tugging just a bit at him that Ez’ choice of words had made it hard to dispute. “Not _that_ kind of flighty anyway. I’m trying to learn magic, so I can teach it to other humans. To eliminate the thing that caused the war in the first place.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. It not one thing that causes that big of a mess. It was many things.”

“I know it’s not simple Ez. I practically live in Xadia.” Ez winced. That was part of the perceived problem wasn’t it? “I know attitudes run deep and there are…” _…centuries of wrongs, on both sides._ “-issues.”

“Xadia is not even the problem. Well, not the most acutely pertinent at least.” _Acutely pertinent?!_ What was going on with his little brother’s vocabulary? He blamed Queen Aanya, really. “There’s an imbalance. Katolis is… okay. The deserters from four armies replenished the losses from the battle to a degree and the influx of knowledge and resources from Xadia are doing a lot too help out those who suffered from the losses. Evenere, Del Bar and _especially_ Neolandia are not happy about that. Their armies were devastated, their rulers murdered.”

“ _Viren_ did that! The guy we’re currently trying to find, if you recall.”

“No Callum. _Viren_ did not do that. The king of Katolis did. That’s who he was when he did that. Because of-” _Because of Ez._ He saw the guilt clearly on his little brother’s face. It was horrible, but it was somehow a lot _more_ horrible to see him wrestle it under control like the adult he really _wasn’t._ “They don’t blame Viren, they blame Katolis. And Duren and Xadia by association.” He finished, looking tired.

Ez walked to the table. The map. He looked up at Callum, troubled wrinkle between his brows and pointed at the place that used to be the breach. They were mending it, bridging it, near the Sunfire territories. Ezran’s small hand traced the line that used to be unbroken lava flow. Then traced another, running parallel to it further west, separating Duren, Katolis and Xadia from the rest of the continent.

“What if we’re not healing the breach? Only moving it?” Ez said.

“They’ll see reason, though? There’s so many advantages! You saw the plumbing blue prints right? The water filtration systems? And Ethari is making great progress on tying the magnification spell to an object rechargeable by moonlight alone, so it can be used by humans to detect harmful parasites and bacteria in water - those tiny life forms I was telling you about.” A whole invisible world. After Lujanne had showed him that spell he had spent days magnifying everything he could find. He had yet to master making the cholera bacteria light up in bright, flashing rainbow colors like she had, but he’d get there. “Dad was working on that for a decade, while…” _-children kept dying of dysentery._ “-things kept being the same and Xadia had the solution.”

“You don’t _get_ it!” Ez said, heated now. “You can’t have a reasonable discussion with someone, when you have all the power, and they have none! That’s not what a discussion is! It’s wrong. We could conquer the other three kingdoms Callum. Pretty easily too. They know that. So if we ask them to adopt Xadian technology, attend peace talks… it’s not asking. It’s threatening.”

Callum was taken aback. He knew Ez was bright, of course he did. But this was- Well, it was definitely not something he had ever thought to consider. “Did you talk to Aanya again?”

“Yes. She’s really smart.” She was too smart. Too cunning. Even if she was well-intentioned. “I don’t always know all the words she’s using, but… it usually makes sense, what she says.”

It did make sense, even if he did not like it. That people’s wrong opinion were still theirs, and it was _also_ wrong to overrule them. They had to do it differently this time. “Fine. If Rayla is okay with waiting, we will come to your gathering, but we’re leav-”

Ez looked pained. “Rayla can’t come.”

“What?! How can you say that? You asked me to be there!”

“I’m asking you to be there without her. She’s part of the problem-”

“Ez, if you call her a problem again, I’m leaving _now_ and not after the gathering.”

“CALLUM! She’s part of the problem _they_ see! Do you really not get that as king I have to consider viewpoints besides my own?” Ez’s round face was screwed up in anger now. “You _know_ I love Rayla. But to the other kingdoms, she’s part of what makes you unreliable as an heir.”

 _I don’t want to be your heir._ That was the truth he couldn’t say. It was selfish, to want to leave your little brother with even more responsibility than he already carried. And there was no one else. If _his_ relations with an elf and time spent in Xadia made him problematic as an heir, then Amaya, the only other option, had exactly the same issues. He had to be the heir. However, he did not have to play along with this stupid gathering, with people who still thought it was a great idea to hate a whole race on principle and who saw a problem with him because of who he loved. His mother had told him that was the worst reason to hate anyone. She had loved a poor artist and then a king. None of them had been proper matches for an officer in the army. And it did not have to be like this.

“Ez, can’t you imagine it? It doesn’t have to be like you’re describing. Another breach. Another rift. War.” He was getting better with his paints. One advantage over the charcoal was opacity. That you could paint over anything, the stuff beneath barely visible. No color showing through, only the texture of the old dried paint, like a scar on the new painting, but barely perceivable most of the time. Only from certain angles. It could even add depth and beauty. The mistakes of the past did not have to mar the future. “You saw dad’s letter. That’s what we should be working towards, a narrative of love. You should come with us. To Xadia. You barely saw any of it last time, and it’s beautiful and magnificent beyond your wildest taffy-hippopotamus dreams. You don’t even have to leave Katolis, there’s seeds of it here too. You can just go to the barracks and ask for Ennika. She was one of the soldiers who took the gift you gave them when you abdicated. She fought at the Spire, met a guy there. She gave birth a few months ago, to a half-elven child.” He couldn’t help but smile, remembering holding the tiny baby, little five-fingered hands and pointed ears. 

Ez looked wistful. “Callum. It’s a beautiful world. But it doesn’t exist. Not yet. And I’m king of this one.”

“If you don’t believe _me,_ maybe you believe Aanya? She saw the new world too. Like it could be. Should be. Remember? When we attended that ball in Duren last year? The Queen opens the ball, choosing her partner from the attendees. She chose Rayla. That was…” _Well, obviously the same choice_ he _would have made, but-_ “-a controversial choice. A statement. She likes stirring- uh, she’s not afraid to ruffle-”

“Shit, Callum. I know the word. Amaya is my aunt too. Yeah, Aanya does like stirring shit. That wasn’t the only reason though.” To Callum’s surprise, Ez giggled, the heavy, horrible distance between them mitigated. He smelled mischief, something juicy or fun. Definitely not horrible or heavy, which meant it was exactly what he needed right now.

“What was the other reason?”

“It’s a secret.” Oh yeah, it was juicy. He could tell from that look on Ez’s face.

“You don’t trust me with state secrets now?” He asked, in mock offense.

“Dummy! It’s not a _state_ secret, or I would have told you.”

“What then? You can’t just tease me like this and then clam up, that’s not fair!” He grinned.

“It’s really obvious when you think about it. I guessed it. Only fair you do too.”

“Uh, is she trying to curry favor with the Moonshadow elves? Trying to learn their dances. Or she’s trying to curry favor with Lux Aurea? They’re pretty fond of Rayla over there.” Far more fond of her than her own village, he thought a little bitterly. Anyway this was possibly making Ezran’s friend sound too calculating. She _was_ only just 12 at the time. “Rayla is a really great dancer, maybe Aanya is secretly really into dancing, takes lessons and stuff? Maybe Aanya wanted assassining tips? Or lock-picking tips?”

Ez laughed brightly. “Yeah, I get the thing Rayla said about you now. That you’re the type to hear hoofbeats and think unicorn, not horse.”

“Hey, I’m just…” _Dense? Flighty?_ He winced slightly at that word. “-imaginative.”

“Well I know Aanya as a person, not just as a queen, that did probably make it easier.”

Oh. Divorced from the whole queen and politics thing, there really was a very obvious reason why a 12-year-old very mature for her age, and clearly a connoisseur of sass, would ask a beautiful, witty, funny, heroic and in his opinion extremely fanciable 16-year-old to dance. His hands came up to cover his mouth. “No! Aanya doesn’t… _like_ Rayla?!”

“You did get there!”

“No!”

“Yes!” Ez laughed. “I really didn’t think _you_ would have such a hard time wrapping your head around that concept. Anyway, you can’t say anything. Not even to Rayla. Especially not to Rayla. Aanya would kill me.”

“Sure. No telling. Got it. Should I be… worried though?”

“Nah, she’s mostly over it now. But she did crush hard for a little while. Not like you though. Not deep and abiding. More like… an idea. A story.” A picture that did not exist. It made him feel weirdly better. Aanya had been vulnerable around Ez. It had worried him, that even good and admirable as she was, Aanya would overrule Ez’s own ideas by virtue of a forceful nature and extreme eloquence. Ez was impressionable. He had forgotten how much of an impression Ez also made on others, made them open up and trust him just by virtue of being good and kind all the way through.

Callum had to leave then, because there were people waiting to talk to the king. He did not feel like this was the last word on that matter though. They had not really resolved anything or come to any kind of agreement. Merely an unspoken agreement that they were sick of heaviness and arguing and to change the topic.

* * *

“Hey.” Rayla greeted him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “How did it go?”

Horribly. “Okay.” She clearly wasn’t fooled, she just smiled fondly and walked over to him.

“Okay.” She said, very close, her face right in front of his now. He could see the fine hairs of her eyebrows, her lashes, the pale pink of her lips. The faintly paler line near her hairline, from when Sol Regem had dumped a pile of rocks on her.

He stood on tiptoes to kiss the scar. Barely perceivable. Certainly only adding depth and beauty. Ez was wrong. He hoped he could show him. “I love you. And I'm not ashamed to be with you, and I’ll never pretend I am.”

“Hey. What _happened_ in there?”

He took a shaky breath. “I’m… not really okay.” She smiled a little sadly, but unsurprised. Leant her forehead against his. “And Ez isn’t okay either.” She did not look surprised at that either. “And the world is not okay.” Still a marked lack of surprise.

“I know. You’re strong though. So is Ez.”

“And the world?” He quipped halfheartedly.

She gave him a determined look. “The world, we have to protect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Sorry about the exposition-heavy chapter, first chapters are hard. The next chapters will be better :)
> 
> This story is based on predictions I had for future seasons, which I tried to wrangle into a plot. The first two are here in this chapter: 1) that Callum will be torn between Katolis and Xadia, internalizing the external conflict and 2) that Callum and Ezran will clash over something important because we have not really seen that relationship tested yet.
> 
> Up next: the conflict between Callum and Ezran comes to a head


	3. 4.2 Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conflict between Callum and Ezran comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I'm trying so many new things in this story, and I was so happy to get such a good reception to the first couple of chapters :)
> 
> This contains a couple of references to [Downtime in Wartime chapter 30](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774909/chapters/56803819). In general, chapter 30+31 of Downtime are not necessary, but definitely recommended to read before this story, as they set up a couple of things, character-wise (they’re standalone chapters, like all the chapters of that story).
> 
> Enjoy the battle of the brothers!

10.01AM, December 15th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

It was no better than yesterday. It was worse _and_ more public.

Why was it going so wrong every time he tried to talk to Ez? They did not use to fight like this. Dad would not let them for one. But mostly, he thought, it was because they had _both_ gotten more headstrong.

“I have to go Ez. You don’t get it. I can’t stand around pretending to be someone I’m not, while people I love are risking their lives somewhere else.”

“Pretending you’re someone you’re not for _weeks_ , wow. That does sound _so_ hard.” Ez said, all uncharacteristic snark. Damn Aanya and her apparently very contagious sarcasm. Or it might actually be Rayla’s doing, he supposed that was also a possibility. Either way, it was all wrong, coming from Ez. “While people you love are risking their lives you say. Yes. Clearly beyond my comprehension.” No, it was Aanya. The vocabulary and the bite left no doubt.

“I’m not talking to you if you’re going to be like that! I’m _leaving._ By which I mean both from this ridiculous discussion _and_ on the mission to find Viren!”

Ezran’s demeanor was quickly losing the cool sarcasm that did not suit him at all, his face screwing up with anger. “Fly off then, like you always do! Have fun!”

“It’s not about _fun,_ are you actually hearing yourself?! We’re trying to prevent another war, same as you! I’m sorry that traipsing through the wilderness and potentially fighting dark mages sounds more _fun_ to you than politics!”

“It’s fine, Callum.” Ez snapped. “You have to do what you think is right. Be where… you-” He turned around, stalking away.

“That’s what I’m doing!” Callum almost shouted, at his retreating back. He saw the way Ez flinched, and it _almost_ broke through the anger but in the end the anger won out.

“Loud mage.” Rayla touched his arm, getting his attention and calming the fuming anger just a bit. “Let’s talk. Somewhere you can be loud.” She smiled grimly, her hand grazing the runes on his arm. He got the idea.

“Manis. Pluma. Volantis.”

If the castle staff in the courtyard thought it odd that their crown prince flew off with his elven girlfriend, they hid it well. Katolis _was_ changing. 

They landed up on the north tower. The moment Callum’s feet set down, his temper rose up.

“He’s being a complete brat. King or not, he can’t-”

“Callum. You said it. King. 11 years old and king. 11 years old and king, and parentless, and facing a gathering of people that are best-case looking for him to fail or worst-case looking for revenge. And his big brother going away for an unknown amount of time. He’s scared. He told me. And he told you too.”

“No, he was too busy telling me other things. Like that you should stay away from me. Rayla, I meant what I said. I’m not pretending you don’t exist, I’m not hiding our relationship to please some bigoted-”

“I’m not saying you should or that I want you too. It’s a moot point anyway. You made your feelings obvious at that ball a couple months ago, in front of a whole bunch of foreign nobles.”

“So I was supposed to just _casually_ watch you bleed out on the dancefloor?! Like, oh my girlfriend’s doing her normal thing, guess I’ll just take this chance to fill up on canapés while-”

Her fingers grazed his jaw. “No. But there was a whole spectrum of intensity to choose from between ‘casual’ and your reaction that night. And I was not bleeding out, I was mildly stab-” She must have noticed his face because she mercifully stopped before fully reviving _that_ particular discussion. “Fine. Point is, the other kingdoms know about us. Know it’s not a political relationship, not a statement and not a casual fling. So let’s put that issue aside. We’re not hiding. It’s too late for that.”

“Okay. We’re not hiding. So I’ll tell Ez-”

“Callum! Ez knows. I talked to him about it - _actually_ talked unlike what the two of you were doing. You don’t need to tell him anything. You need to listen to him.”

“I am, and what he’s saying is all wrong. He’s convinced we need to play along, as if it would ever be possible to change things doing that.”

“It’s _not_ just about politics! You need to stop pretending that it is. It’s about Ez. He’s been alone for too long. Amaya is too far away. He needs _you._ And you need to listen to what he’s really saying, you’re really good at that usually. So I know the only reason you’re not hearing it is because you don’t want to.”

“If what you’re referring to is me staying and you leaving, then you’re absolutely right I don’t want to hear it! And don’t tell me _you_ want to fight with me too!” Oh, now he _had_ set off her temper.

“If I wanted to fight you, I would be pointing out that there were two bratty children in that courtyard!” Rayla snapped. Then she took a deep breath. Reached out to take his hands, tight fists at his sides. “But I _don’t_ want to fight you. So I’m sorry I did say that.” She brought his right hand to her mouth, the soft brush of lips against his knuckles like a balm on the seething anger. His hand unclenched.

“It’s okay. I do realize that was not _my_ finest moment either. It’s just messing me up. The idea of splitting up. If I stay, you’ll go. I know you. You’re not going to sit on your hands for weeks while Viren could be relocating to somewhere else or something worse. I just… Does it have to be _you?_ ”

“It has to be Soren, you get that. If anyone can break through to Claudia it’s him, and he knows it. That anyone else confronting her would end badly. He needs to go. And it also has to be me. You know what he told me about his collection.” Yes. The hard-won closure on her parents’ fate had not lasted long. He knew it nagged at her, still. He got that she had to go. But in that case, so did he. But she disagreed with that, clearly. “You are needed here, like it or not.” She said firmly. She had dug her heels in now, he could tell. She did not do that to him often, and it meant she felt _very_ strongly about it. But so did he.

“I’m pretty sure you know, I _don’t_ like it.”

“Yes, the whole castle will know that by now.” Damn. She was right about that. He really did just have a blazing row with his little brother and the king in the middle of the courtyard.

He pulled her to him. “I can’t, Rayla. I really can’t. I can’t think about you going after Viren without me. Jumping off some cliff somewhere, alone. And I’ll just never see you again. Maybe never even know what happened to you.” 

“I’ll bring whoever you want me to. Except you.”

“Don’t I feel special.” He griped sourly.

“You are. And not just to me. That’s the point.” She was special too, though. And not just to him either. But sometimes, he was not sure that really registered with her, how much she mattered. Rayla looked at him, almost pleading. “Do you understand that the last place I want to be in the whole world is between you and Ez like this? Remember the Battle of the Storm Spire? Afterwards? What Ez said, during that impromptu Big Feelings Time we had? This is it. This is really, eerily close to it anyway. To one of his biggest fears coming true. Can you imagine that?”

“I don’t have to.” He spat bitterly. “I lived it, when you jumped off that mountain.” It had been a year and a half, and he still woke up screaming sometimes. And it would happen a lot more often without Rayla next to him. And she would be alone too. She didn’t scream or thrash like he did, but curled into a tiny, shaking ball in her sleep, quietly whimpering, the worst sound he knew. Every part of him rebelled at the thought of being away from her, and _especially_ her going off to do something dangerous without him with her.

“Then you know you have to stay.”

“I remember something else from that night too. What Soren said. About Claudia. That she’ll come for you. And what you said about her, back at the Moon Nexus. Spell components.” It was like rot in his mouth, those words. Had been, even back at the Nexus, even when he had still been infatuated with Claudia.

“She can try.”

“No she can’t! She’s _not_ allowed to try!” He tightened his grip on her. That was a persistent disagreement. She still wasn’t fully understanding of just how much he wasn’t okay with people _trying_ to hurt her, regardless of success.

“Callum. I’ll be okay.” She smirked grimly. “I can take her.” Usually that familiar determined swagger would be really attractive to him. Because usually he believed her when she said she could do something. But not now. She didn’t know. Didn’t understand.

“You weren’t there. Down on the battlefield, at the Storm Spire. I haven’t told you this, because we didn’t hear anything for so long, and I didn’t want to put my worries on you, if it was just me getting all in my head about something. You know I do that sometimes.” Her hand through his hair. She definitely did know that. “But it didn’t leave me, what Soren said that day. That she’d come for you. I got all the information I could about her, from Ez, from Janai, from Soren. From some sun mages in Lux Aurea that Kazi put me in contact with while we were there. She has a corrupted sun primal stone. A very, very strong one. You didn’t see what she did during the battle. A kind of shockwave that spanned hundreds of feet. Protected herself and Viren from dragon fire. More. And she would only have studied sun primal spells out of vague academic interest up until that point. She has had 18 months of _focused_ interest now.” He dragged a hand through his hair. Rayla had to understand what that _meant._ “She’s- she’s _smart,_ Rayla.”

Rayla took his ineffectually flailing hands in hers. Looked him straight in the face. “So are you.” She sounded so sure he almost believed her. But Rayla didn’t know Claudia like he did. And she had to.

“Not like her. I just have a very good memory, that’s different. The reason she seems so… flaky? It’s because her mind makes logical leaps others can’t follow. She’s not crazy. When she says things that don’t seem to make sense? They do. It just takes her a few minutes to explain the train of thought that got her there in fractions of a second.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

“Yes.”

“I believe you. She’s dangerous. There are things I didn’t tell you either. First because they would have hurt you to hear and I wasn’t sure you would believe me. And then because she was a bit of a sore subject. And then, after the battle at the Spire, because you said you didn’t want to remember her or think about her. But you did anyway.”

“Yeah. My stupid head doesn’t often give me a choice about what to think about.”

Rayla stood up on tiptoes, to kiss his forehead. “I like your head. Dummy.” He smiled. But his fears were not alleviated.

“Rayla. What didn’t you tell me about her?” He asked.

“Back at the Moon Nexus, when she and Soren ambushed me? The first time that is.” She smirked a little grimly at that. Callum failed to see the humor. It was not pleasant memories in general of that time, not the least of which had been his own actions. “She used a sleep spell of some kind. Soren wasn’t okay with murdering a sleeping victim. She was. She was encouraging him. I wasn’t anything to her. She’d seen us leave together in the dungeon. Knew the situation wasn’t as simple as a forced kidnapping. I still wasn’t anything to her. Not a person, not an enemy, not anything.” _Not anything but spell components._

“How did you get out of it? The spell didn’t affect you?”

“No, it did.” She smiled just a little triumphantly. Held up her right hand and clenched it. “I used a lovely rose to stay awake. By jamming its thorn into my thumb.”

That did make him smile. “You’re smart too.” He took her hand and kissed the pad of her thumb. Claudia might underestimate Rayla again, he thought. Rayla was smart in a way neither he nor Claudia could match - bright and adaptable and quick on her feet. And determined to the point of actual insanity.

Yeah, despite his recent connection to the moon arcanum he didn’t really have any illusions he was going to win this argument. “I’ll stay.” The words came out rather strained, and he definitely was not happy about it, but he had to. For Ez. She _was_ right that they could not just both leave him.

“It’ll not be that bad.” She reached up to smooth out the unhappy frown on his face. “I talked to Ez. You’re not going to be just shaking hands you know. Your handshakes are all… moist anyway.” She grinned. It was true. He absolutely hated standing around greeting strangers, something about that situation made him feel like he was a 13-year-old at the pinnacle of pubescent awkwardness again, fighting a losing battle to not be a complete useless embarrassment. “It would be a waste of what is by far the most advanced human primal mage in the world. You said you should not be hiding me. I say you should not hide yourself. You should be showing off. Ez agrees with me. That’s the politics part of why you need to stay.”

“Showing off? Showing off magic? To the people of Evenere and Neolandia and Del Bar?”

“Yes. Serve them the fizz, show them the plumbing project, make illusion rainbows-”

“So I’m a sideshow act. The plumbing is the only one of those things that’s important for them to see, and the thing that would send them running for the hills.”

“As long as you don’t magnify your own skin again, it’ll be fine.” She giggled. Yeah, that had not been a wise choice. Some things you were really just better off not knowing about. But even the tiny organisms in water could be scary to someone who had no idea they were there. Once when he had been testing filtration systems, some villagers had accused him of _putting_ tiny monsters in their water, which was just ridiculous.

“You’re an example of what’s possible. Those are important. The other kingdoms should see it. See you.” She looked at him tenderly, her hand running up his cheek. “They didn’t see you jump off that mountain or face an army of monster soldiers with two spells. They haven’t seen you in years.” Yeah, they probably remembered some fidgety kid and a clammy handshake, if they remembered him at all. “If they think you’re weak then prove them wrong. Publicly. It’s not going to be hard to do. No one looking very hard could think that.”

“I was never very good at being a prince.” But that _was_ weak wasn’t it? To only want to do things you were good at or wanted to do? He had been doing the things he wanted to do for a year and a half. For the first time in his life, but still. Ez had not. “But I’ll practice. For Ez.”

“Good.” She smiled at him, proud and… sad. She did not want to leave him either, he realized.

“I’ll catch up. I can fly. Giving you a head start is only fair.” It was a long way to the Earthblood territories where Amaya had reported the signs of dark magic activity, and the terrain was rough. It would take close to two weeks on horseback and he could cover the distance in three or four days if he was not carrying anyone.

“No!” Her eyes had widened.

“You don’t need to sound so horrified.” He grumbled. “What’s the problem with _that?”_

“There are two problems with that. First, you need to be here for Ez for real, not counting the days until you get to fly off. Second, no. Just NO! You don’t fly across the continent alone, are you kidding me?!” She grabbed his scarf to pull his face close to hers. “You’re not the only one who gets to worry. And that’s an absolutely terrifying idea to _me,_ are you getting that?” She pulled closer, but into an embrace instead, gentle now, her hands through his hair, across his temple, the back of his head. His dumb head that she insisted was not dumb. They still disagreed on that, but did agree that his head frequently did rather poorly on its own. Like it would be on the cross-continental solo flight he had suggested. “We’re not intending to fight him now anyway, only confirm for sure that it’s him, or Claudia, or both of them, and narrow down their position, so we can call in the cavalry. You can go with Amaya then. Okay?”

He drew her tighter. Put his head on her shoulder. “Okay.” He did not like it, but… he could do it. He would be a prince and a big brother for a few weeks. He could do _that_. Rayla would be crossing the continent on a dangerous quest. She was good at that. She had done it before. She would be okay. He would just have to convince his dumb head of that. He was not sure he could do _that._

She twisted a little in his grip to kiss his temple. “It’ll _be_ okay. And we can talk more about it later. I know there are still fears in your head you haven’t shared with me. And you can, and I’ll listen. But right now, we need to talk to Ez.”

“Just one more thing. I should have told you earlier, about Claudia, about my fears. And so should you.” They had gotten better, well Rayla had, he had always been pretty good at it, at sharing the things that made them feel afraid or vulnerable. They still had a little ways to go in regards to sharing things that might cause pain or worry to the other.

“Yes. I want us to. And I will, I promise. The full truth.”

“The full truth.” He agreed.

* * *

“Ez. We’ve talked about it, and… I’ll stay.” Callum said, approaching his brother, where he was sitting at the foot of the throne. Slouching, some tiny rebellion. Certainly Ez was still grumpy, but this at least should-

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?!” Callum demanded, angry.

“You made your feelings clear. I don’t want you around, when you’re definitely just gonna be moaning the whole time about how you’d rather be in Xadia rolling around in enchanted meadows, or how there’s not enough static in the air here for a proper Fulminis, or how your bed is all cold and empty-” Opeli sputtered at this, but didn’t interrupt her king. Callum was too angry to be embarrassed. “-or the state of our library or whatever else it is that day!”

“I _don’t_ moan-”

“Sure. I just made all those things up. Nothing you’ve ever said.”

“Nothing I’ve ever said _at once_ like that!” It really was unfair to condense weeks of petty complaints into one list like that.

“Shut it, both of you!” Rayla snapped.

Opeli bristled, even though Callum was a hundred and ten percent sure Rayla had just voiced exactly what she herself had sitting on her tongue and was just too proper to utter. “Lady Rayla, that is the king-”

“Not _my_ king, if you recall.” Rayla retorted. That was an old argument that had long been settled. “There’s too many fucking feelings in this room. And too many people.” She added, glancing around the dignitaries scattered around. All of them watching the spectacle unfolding. “So I suggest the three of us adjourn to the king’s chambers for a more civilized and _private_ discussion,” she said sharply, in a tone that did not sound much like a _suggestion_. Ez definitely heard that too.

Neither of them put up resistance when Rayla grabbed both of them by the hand to lead them away from the hall.

No one said anything, as they made it up the stairs to Ez’ sizable bedroom. Or even when the doors closed behind them.

Rayla was cheerfully dragging the chairs from around the fireplace to face each other in a triangle, the dragging noises across stone the only sounds in the room. “Now it’s ready.” She announced.

“For what?”

“Big Feelings Time.” She said, rolling her eyes, as if this was obvious. “Too many fucking feelings, remember? So first, feelings. Then, another attempt at the conversation you started downstairs. But this time with less feelings and more actual conversation.” She fixed both of them with a firm stare, but she was smiling just a bit. “We decide together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ez said immediately. Callum felt a pang at how fast he was to agree and how incredibly relieved he sounded. All the defiance gone. He _had_ decided alone for too long. Rayla was right.

Callum reached out to take Ezran’s hand. Not as tiny as it used to be, he realized. “Okay.” He said gently, looking at his brother. His little brother that he loved more than he knew how to say, even when he was being a complete pain.

Ez looked at him, tears welling in his eyes. And then flung himself at him. He really was getting bigger, Callum realized, as he staggered at the impact. He lifted his brother into his arms, as he used to, when they were both much smaller. Sat down in one of the chairs, with Ez in his lap. Rayla sat down opposite him. Big Feelings Time alright. He laid his cheek on top of Ezran’s hair. The crown poked at his neck uncomfortably.

Ez must have noticed his flinch, because he drew back a bit, and reached up to pull the crown off. Then his young face contorted with grief, and he flung it across the room. It clattered on the floor, settling somewhere under the bed.

“Callum,” he choked out. “I’m not _your_ king either, right?”

“No.” Callum said, without hesitation. “You’re my brother. My pain in the ass little brother.”

Ez giggled with relief, even through the tears. No one called their king a pain in the ass. That was sort of the point.

“You know you can be a pain, too, right?” He asked, but without bite now.

“He knows.” Rayla smirked.

They sat for a while like that, not speaking, letting some of the feelings between them that had never needed words have room.

Eventually, Ezran took a deep breath. And broke the silence. “I missed you guys. So much. And then you were here, and you want to leave, and I’m scared I’ll never see you again. Be king. Alone. Of everyone.”

“I’m really sorry, Ez. I should have listened, earlier.”

“I could have told you that, earlier.”

“You did tell me that. That I always fly off. And yesterday. The way you looked when I said I practically lived in Xadia. And those complaints. All put together. They hurt because it sounds like I don’t like it here with you?” He stroked his hand across Ezran’s back, still shaking a bit, though he had stopped crying. “You told me. And I should have listened.”

“I said it in a really mean way though. I’m really sorry about that, I didn’t mean it. I was afraid I would cry, right there in the courtyard or in the throne room. The king can’t do that. It’s not allowed. So I did what Rayla does when she’s upset, or used to do anyway - find that little bit of the upset that’s anger and hold onto it. Because anger hurts too, but it makes you strong, at least for a little while. Let’s you stand up straight and not cry in the courtyard.”

“I still do it sometimes.” Rayla said, looking down in her lap. “I’m sorry it’s rubbing off on you. It’s really not my finest quality. But sometimes the world just sucks and it’s all you have, I get that way too hard Ez.”

“It’s not _you!”_ Ez looked almost insulted on her behalf. “It’s being king that’s doing it. I get why you did it though. Now. You had to be an assassin. I bet they’re not allowed to cry either.” Oh no. Rayla face was… that poked at something, what Ez had said.

Rayla sniffed. Wiped her eyes. “Sorry. Guess I’m really _not_ an assassin.”

“You’re not! So you’re allowed to cry!” Ez got off Callum’s lap, looking critically at the chair. “You guys have skinny butts, and these chairs were commissioned by King Rowan the 2nd who allegedly and if these chairs are any judge, definitely, liked jellytarts even more than me. You’ll fit.” She did. It was only a little bit tight, squished in next to Callum, and Ez plonked down across both their laps.

“So, what made you cry?” Ezran asked, after they had settled in their new position, occupying one chair of three.

“Just a memory.” She looked cautiously at both of them, but Ez in particular. Oh. It was about Runaan then. She was still reluctant to talk to him about that sometimes, and he thought she might not at all to Ez.

Ez looked sternly at her. “Big Feelings Time should be for everyone. And you started it. And I can take the poopy sandwich filling you’re hiding with vague ‘memory’-bread!”

“It’s… Runaan. I don’t-”

“He was like your dad! Of course you get to talk about him!”

“But-”

“I’m not mad at him. Zubeia gave the order. I’m not mad at her either.” Ez put his arms around her neck, and put his fluffy head against her shoulder. “So please tell us about Runaan. Because we’re strong and we can take it. Right Callum?”

“Right.” Callum said, a little stunned. He had tried and failed to communicate that sentiment to Rayla before. She had not quite believed him, because he had not quite been truthful. Because he _was_ mad at Runaan. But Ez was right, too. He could take it. And he could say _that_ and be truthful.

“Runaan told me that. Yeah.” Rayla said. “That I was too emotional. That I was not supposed to cry.”

“But?” Ez pressed.

“But what?”

“But that’s not all of it.” Ez said, sounding very sure. “You weren’t like… sad-sad crying, you were happy-sad crying. So it was not a bad memory, but a good one? And you think that would be even harder for us to hear? That Runaan was not all bad? It would make me happy to hear though. That people were good to you when you were little.”

“Yes. It really would.” Callum agreed. Completely truthfully. Ez really did need him. Needed to be protected and cared for. Needed someone around he was not king of. Because this familiar sweetness inside him, coming out right now, with the crown off, was precious and important. He found Rayla’s hand where it was squeezed against his thigh, and put his other arm around Ez.

Rayla smiled slightly. “Runaan folded like a wet rag whenever I _did_ cry. He could be in the middle of the scolding of a lifetime, all fired up… but he stopped if I cried. Every time. I hated when that happened. I was not a very obedient child, I usually deserved those scoldings and I knew it too. And… I thought it was just really unfair that he should stop just because of what my face was doing.” She giggled a little bit, a few tears coming out with it.

“Hey, only a monster could look at your crying-face and not be affected.” Callum said, his hand finding her wet cheek. He definitely also ‘folded like a wet rag’ when she cried. “It’s just a really sad face, okay.” He stroked his fingers across her temple, into her hair. She was still thinking though, lost in memories.

“And I think he did that too, what you said.” She continued. “About holding onto the little bit of the upset that’s anger? He did it all the time, I think. It was just different anger, not hot and fast but cold and lasting. He did it up on those ramparts, where you met him. He was angry at me, yeah. But he was also upset because he did not want me there. I think so, at least. I think about that sometimes, the last time I saw him. And if he hated me. At the end.”

It was completely unfair that three of her parents had left her like they had, without closure. At least him and Ez got to mourn their father, sure that he had loved them, sure what had happened to him. And even if it was an unbelievable thought to him and Ez that any parent could hate their child, especially if that child was Rayla… they did not know Runaan and could not reassure her in any meaningful way.

Instead he leaned into her, his head against her shoulder and pulled Ez up close to them both.

“Well, that was not really part of the itinerary for the Big Feelings Time,” Rayla said, against his hair. “We should probably return to the subject we were supposed to talk about. Callum?”

“I will stay, Ez. Okay? If you’ll have me, and bear with me if… when… I moan about things.”

“I can take it. I have a lot of practice.” He giggled. “I’m really glad you’re staying. As my brother. And as the crown prince too. I really do think the other kingdoms need to see you. Who you are, now.”

“Without me.” Rayla said. “We don’t hide our relationship. Too late anyway, and we also don’t want to do it. Shouldn’t do it. But that doesn’t mean now is the time to flaunt it. They haven’t seen you for years. If I was with you, that would be _all_ they see. Some scandal.” That was all too true, he knew, and not particularly funny, but Rayla smirked anyway. “You know how… distracting I am.”

Oh she was. Right now too. Distracting him from heavy feelings and worry and everything. “Yeah you’re fizz-out-of-the-nose levels of distracting, we’ve established that,” he said fondly.

“Guys, I’m _right_ here.” Ez grumbled.

“Sorry, Ez,” she chuckled. “Point is Callum, I want them to see _you.”_

“I would rather they saw us.” Callum said, squeezing her hand. “Saw a narrative of love. Even if they don’t believe in it.”

“That’s sweet, but… I don’t just want them to see you for your sake, Callum. Although that’s part of it. But for Ez. Remember the assassination attempt, a couple of months ago?” She said cautiously. That had not been a fun night for Ez, and he had not wanted to talk about it much. But they had to.

“Yeah,” Ez said quietly. “You got hurt because of me.”

She reached out, gentle hand on Ezran’s cheek, turning his face up to look at her. “No. I got hurt because of me. Okay?”

“No, you got hurt because of me.” Callum said, defiantly. They both turned to him, baffled. “No you didn’t, I just wanted you to listen to yourselves, both of you. How dumb that sounds. Rayla got hurt because some massive jerkface sent an assassin after a child. That’s literally the reason.”

“Okay. Fair point.” Rayla said, chuckling a bit. He was not sure she believed it, it was rarely that easy with her, but at least she said it and that was a start. “Anyway, speaking of points, mine was that we don’t want another situation like that.” No. Really, absolutely not. That had been bad in so many ways. She turned to him now, firm and sure. “And don’t you think it might be a deterrent if they think they’ll get a mage as ruler instead? Someone with probably _more_ radical ideas and older and less physically vulnerable? You can _fly_ Callum. Show them. Show them who they’ll get. You.” She had too much faith in him, definitely. But he did see her point. He was a harder target than Ez. “And if you want them to see a narrative of love, show them the two of you. United.”

“Okay.” Callum said, to the room at large. It wasn’t a terrible plan. It really wasn’t. Better than handshakes and compliance anyway.

“But you were so against it, Callum? Before.” Ezran said, worried. Still.

“Yeah. That was not just political either. Or anything to do with not wanting to be here with you. It makes me… really nervous to think about Rayla going off on her own. That’s… a really big feeling, Ez. I don’t think we have time to cover that right now. But we _will_ have time. Because I’m staying. Okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this was heavy. And long. I hated having Callum and Ez fight, I really love their brotherly bond and just wanted them to hug it out the whole time. Story lightens up a bit now. For a little while that is. Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Yes, (probably unpopular) prediction 3) Rayllum will split up. Not break up, but physically separate for a while. Because again, it’s something we haven’t seen yet in the show. And they do such a good job compensating for each other’s shortcomings when they’re together, that this will test them in new ways. This should make it obvious that I’m really trying to base this off what I THINK will happen and not what I WANT to happen, haha! But pining Rayllum is also pretty sweet, so… 
> 
> Up next: Callum and Rayla prepare for the mission and their impending separation (aka mushy feelings abound)


	4. 4.3 Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla prepare for the mission and their impending separation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! It means a lot to hear that you liked the way I've been structuring and setting up the plot of this story. That's all new to me, and I appreciate the feedback a lot :)
> 
> Some of you might notice I changed the chapter count for the story. That’s not because I decided to make it twice as long, but because I decided to continue into Season 5: Ocean in the same story. Because I was writing it as a continuous story anyway, mimicking the way the seasons work on the TV show, so it seemed easier on the readers to keep it in one document. I did a bunch of actual planning for this story, like way overdue. There’s a title page now for the season, back in the notes for the first chapter.
> 
> And then I couldn’t finish this chapter for some reason, and instead wrote everything else. On the plus side there’ll be more weddingcrasher Nyx in a few days, probably. Because that was one of the procrastination projects.

9.20PM, September 9th, 999AB, The Moon Nexus, Katolis

The full moon filled the Nexus. The water did not even look like water anymore, but like some second moon, enormous and close.

Callum did not feel its power, but he saw it in Rayla. She was always pretty energetic, but now she was positively bouncing. Stronger, faster… They were trying to gauge how _much_ faster. They had been at the Nexus for a month. Rayla had long since fully recovered from being definitely-more-than-mildly-stabbed, and she was getting antsy, and he was getting nowhere closer to connecting to the moon arcanum. Granted, he did not know if it was actually possible to connect to more than one arcanum, but he was pretty sure. A few times he thought he had felt something, like back when he still was still using the sky primal stone. Lujanne had let him and Ellis practice spells using an artefact from the Nexus, capable of holding the power of the moon like a primal stone, just not as strong, and it needed to be recharged.

The runes were as easy to him as they had ever been, but the connection was proving elusive. Ellis had made it. He had not been surprised when she did, she understood it more intuitively. She always had that fascination with fantastical horrors. Imagination. He thought he was pretty creative, certainly he had always had an easy time seeing things in his mind’s eye, but his imagination was not… free? Not like Ellis’ was. He was always taking inspiration from some image in his memory. He did not know _how_ Ellis came up with the things she did, considering she grew up in a village without a library.

Maybe _because_ she grew up without a library, _because_ she did not have his vast stores of perfect images in memory. It was impossible to be jealous of a girl _that_ sweet and weird though.

Lujanne was teaching Rayla to recharge the artefact, in the increasingly likely event that he did not make the connection by the time they had to leave, so he could keep practicing. It was not rune-based magic, but more like what Ethari did, a craft. Technical and fiddly and challenging her patience.

So timing her speed on a set course around the Nexus each night of the moon cycle was fun for the whole family. Lujanne for the fascination of research. Ellis for the action and excitement, bounding alongside her on Ava. Rayla for the exercise and competition. Him for… well the scientific curiosity was part of it, but definitely also the way she looked when she finished her run, cheeks flushed, her hair sticking to her forehead, her chest heaving… He could barely make her out tonight under the full moon, the power of the ‘ting’ was very real, but he had his memories, the sounds of her gasping breaths, the sensation of reflected heat from her skin. The indents her invisible hands left on his clothes and skin.

He could see the outline of her body only because she was so close to him, the faintest disturbance in the air. Her lilac eyes, faint glows. Her almost invisible hands, running surreptitiously along his arms, his chest, her breath against his ear. His cheeks heated, despite the knowledge that Lujanne and Ellis could not see what she was doing.

She really was more… daring… during the full moon. Safe in the warranted surety that she could not be perceived. It was well-known that there was no magic in the world that could dispel or see through the Moonshadow full moon form. Best anyone could do was environmental effects, mist or smoke or lights in the air to wrap around the spaces filled by invisible shapes.

“It is a very good setup.” Lujanne said, approvingly. “You utilize the advantages of a longitudinal study, with the subject providing its own baseline eliminating the need for a control grou-”

Rayla pushed him up against the tree behind him. His fingers slipped against sweaty skin.

“I will confer with you tomorrow Callum. Come with me Ellis.” Lujanne said, snickering as she retreated.

“But he would look so funny kissing someone invisible. It’s _fascinating-_ ” Ellis said, to his horror sounding like she was already crafting a picture of what it would look like.

“We’re not kissing!” Rayla protested, her face so close he could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

Ellis seemed to think highly likely prospective kissing was basically the same thing. “You’re _going_ to.” She said, very certain.

Well yes. Probably. But not with Ellis’ innocent dark eyes watching them. He _knew_ how vivid her imagination was, how boundless her curiosity, and he was _not_ ready to explain about sandwiches to a 12-year-old girl.

She followed Lujanne though, bounding up the stairs on Ava.

Callum fumbled at the edge of Rayla’s flickering outline, finding her shoulder, letting touch guide his fingers up her neck.

“I’m all sticky.” Rayla bemoaned, regretfully pulling away from him. It was a warm night, with the temperatures having not yet discovered it was autumn, along with the warmth of the full moon that she felt, and he did not. “I really think I have to go in there.” She was probably pointing at the lake. He could not see it though, had to fill out the missing parts of her communication. But he knew her plenty well enough to do so. “Just a quick dip, then I’ll join you. It’s much faster than the basin in our room. And it’s nice to cool off. In theory. If only it wasn’t so… watery.”

Her clothes became visible as they dropped from her fingers. He really was a hopeless cause, because he couldn’t even see her, and it was still completely engrossing. He had his memory and his imagination to fill in what his sight did not supply. When she noticed his very intent gaze, she slowed down. Her movements, as faintly perceptible as they were, became more… deliberate.

Her underwear dropped too, to his surprise. She usually kept that on this close to potential onlookers, him not included, but the full moon and the Nexus were filling her with their power, with strength and daring.

Oh so daring.

He could see her body displacing the water, the shape it made. Ellis was right, it was _fascinating._ Entrancing and mesmerizing, the suggestion somehow more powerful than if he had had the full visual input. More room for interpretation this way. Imagination.

But it was over too soon. Rayla was not about to put on a show for him like she definitely had when she had undressed, not while she was so surrounded by her liquid nemesis. She finished as quickly as possible, her movements quick and efficient, water splashing as she scrubbed vigorously, the drops bouncing off her skin briefly outlining her shape against the moonlit lake.

He lay back against the grass as she exited the lake, looking up at the full moon above, distant and disconnected. Different to him than to Rayla.

She laid down next to him, still invisible, but he felt it. Warmth and pressure. Her.

“You’re thinking about the moon arcanum?” She asked, thoughtful. Well. Not just that. But also that. “I’ve been thinking about it. And you. That you might be having trouble because… you’re honest. Always were. With yourself too. You never deluded yourself like I did. That you were someone you weren’t. You never made an illusory world for yourself like I did, when I thought I was an assassin. You made the world you wanted real instead, when you connected to the sky arcanum.”

He was not always honest though. With himself or with her. She thought he was better than he was, she always had. He was grateful for it. Someone needed to be able to see a thing that didn’t exist yet, for it to be possible to achieve. He could see a better world easier than he could see a better him. But Rayla could.

“You give me too much credit,” he said fondly. His hands slid lightly across bare skin, still wet from the lake. “I am as capable of deluding myself as anyone. Creating the reality I want, not the one that’s real. I did that… back when we were here the first time. My dad being alive. I was so sure of that, I had not even thought it could be otherwise, until it was.”

“What do you mean?” She asked. “You didn't know because _I_ didn’t tell you-”

“No, but… Back when we left the Moon Nexus, remember? I told you what Claudia told me about Runaan. That they got all the elves that attacked that night. You did not hear what I thought I was saying, but… should I have pushed? It was selfish of me not to, maybe? I was so lost then, I’m not sure I did it for you. I told myself I did, but maybe I just couldn’t face your grief, on top of mine? I told myself, you needed that reality, where your dad was alive. Like I did, when I didn’t put it together that you had two bindings when we met. And it wasn’t because I didn’t think about it. I obsessed about that binding, you know. I knew you were lying about it, for one, and it was hurting you and that hurt me to watch. And you know what my memory is like. The detail that you had two bindings when we met… it was _there!_ It _is_ there, I can see it now. You in the hallway where we first met.” _Beautiful_ , that part had been real and enduring. _Terrifying_ , before _that_ reality had shattered into pieces and never recovered. Silvery ribbons around both her wrists, the image there for him to look at. But he had not.

“It was horrible, when and how I found out.” She said, pressing a little closer to him. “And after. But it was always going to be horrible. I got a few more weeks of a world where he was alive. And you, you needed me to not be mourning too.”

That wasn’t right. Rayla was always selfless to a fault, but… “Disregard me, okay? Just as a thought experiment. Would it have been better for _you_ , if you had known earlier?”

She didn’t answer for a while, but when she spoke, she was sure. “No. It was real to me.” Until it wasn’t. “It was okay, really.” Until it wasn’t. Until the Silvergrove. “And it’s a moot point anyway.” She was smiling, he could tell from her voice. “Disregarding you.” Invisible lips against his cheek, his furrowed brow. His troubled frown relaxed; his reality made better by her as it always was.

Yeah. There was no reality where he could disregard her either, she was part of it, part of him, now.

It made sense. Perception and reality. _Perception_ shaped your world, not _sensation,_ not just what you saw and remembered, but… how you interpreted those things. A subjective overlay on the fabric of reality. That you could control, at least to a degree. It was not all bad. Not a lie, but…

When Rayla had undressed… he could see nothing but clothes dropping and a flicker in the air. Not in itself alluring. It was all… perception. Like the feeling of her… pressed against him… now… faint physical sensation… but… enhanced by feelings… by him…

He must have dozed off at some point, it was late and the full moon did not give him the boost of energy it did Rayla. He didn’t notice that until he woke back up, reality bleeding back into focus… but subtly different. Warmer. He didn’t quite notice that either, until he did. The warmth of the moonlight.

* * *

11.18PM, December 18th, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

“Nuntius Avem!”

The pale blue bird burst into being from Callum’s hand, and flew off. Ez was probably sick of receiving them by now, so he sent this one to Soren with the message ‘Don’t hate the moon!’ and the instruction to give him birdie kisses until he woke. He had been practicing tangible illusions, getting better, and he was confident it would work.

“You’re really annoying sometimes.” Rayla grumbled affectionately, sighing wearily. She was getting tired. Failed attempts at spells still drained your energy. And there had been a lot of failed attempts on her part.

The moon was bright. Only half, but a cloudless sky, and the spell was not taxing. It was not a matter of power. Rayla’s connection to the moon was as strong as anyone’s. Certainly stronger than his, it was over 17 years old instead of 3 months. She was more used to the feeling. Used to drawing on its strength. But not used to doing so consciously.

“A break?” He suggested. And would insist if she did not take his suggestion. But she came with him to sit on the edge of the parapet. Put her head on his shoulder, then let him guide it to his lap, after he felt how heavily she leaned on him.

Unlike him, she was made for connecting to the moon. Born with it. It was in her luminous skin and shining hair and reflective eyes. He took her hand in his, and intertwined their fingers, wondering at the difference. Nothing like his, smaller and more delicate, yet far stronger. Certainly more graceful. A hand made for connecting to the moon, and yet it failed every time. The necessary precision was not there, the proper speed and timing was not there.

“It’s okay if I can’t do it, right?” She asked, reviving a memory of a hallway in the Storm Spire. Rayla’s tears on his fingertips. It was okay then and now, that there were things she could not do. But this, she _could_ do.

“Of course it is.” He ran his fingers over the troubled wrinkle between her brows. But she could. She had all the capability. He was explaining it wrong. He was explaining the way it made sense to _him._ Like an image, a picture. All visuals. “You’ll do fine without it. You will.”

She opened her eyes, looking up at him archly. “You’re talking to yourself again.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’ll join you. You definitely make better company. Far less depressing and circular conversations when you’re involved.” He looked down at her, smiling. “And a better view.”

“Don’t forget the much-decreased latency and general awkwardness.” She snickered.

“Hey, I’ve gotten better!”

“Not saying a lot, considering where you started.”

“Now you’re just ribbing me,” he mock-pouted. He would miss that too.

“Well, to be fair, you started it. You can’t just hand me these things on a silver platter, the setup is too tempting. I’m just a simple elven girl, who likes the simple things, like moonberry surprise and ribbing my tragically dense boyfrie-”

Her words were cut of when he kissed her, his hand running down her arm and lower. She gasped into his mouth. “That’s not all you like,” he whispered into her ear, before nipping lightly at the sensitive tip, eliciting a soft, pleased sigh from her.

She looked up at him, fond and a bit proud. “My _gods_ that was smooth,” she acknowledged, slightly breathless. “You _have_ gotten better.”

“I _know!”_ He exclaimed triumphantly, grinning widely.

“Aaaand you ruined it.” She chuckled. “You gotta play it cool! It’s like… your wing spell. It’s fucking majestic. You know how I feel about the wings.” He did. “But if you ended it by striking a pose and yelling ‘tadaa!’ it would be-”

“Even _more_ majestic and awesome?! You have _all_ the best ideas! Well, you know I have to do that now! And I’m going to pull it off too! Oh ye of little faith!” He grinned at her. “You’ll learn to appreciate the ‘tadaa!’ like you learned to appreciate Elf-Callum-”

“Nobody but Ethari appreciates Elf-Callum. And that’s only because the poor man is so starved for real humor since I moved out.” There was probably a bit of truth there, that was not so funny. He saw the flicker across Rayla’s face, brief but there. But she caught herself, unwilling to relinquish the levity.

“I’ll send him some jokes! There’s a book in the library-”

“Callum, jokes are the opposite of humor,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“What?! How?”

“Humor is situational. Like flirting. So that means jokes are to humor what pick-up lines are to flirting. Both lose all appeal when divorced from the context.”

“So now you don’t like my flirting either?”

“Well, sometimes the lines are so dorky they kinda… transcend what you’re actually saying? And they come out the other side and become funny again? I probably have a special attraction to that. Wouldn’t bet on that working on anyone but me though.” Well, that was a challenge if ever he heard one. And he had the perfect thing in mind, too.

He lowered the pitch of his voice a bit, trying for an imitation of Corvus’ deep drawl. “Babe, it’s a good thing I know Ventulis Spiralis, because you take my breath away.” She giggled helplessly, shaking in his arms, which _had_ been the reaction he had been aiming for, so he considered it a success.

Then she stopped though, and looked at him, not laughing anymore, but tender. She pretended to swoon, but she could not pretend the smile that spread on her face was not genuine. She then not-pretended to kiss him with quite a lot of not-pretend passion.

“See! It worked!” He laughed, when she drew away.

“Yeah, but I already like you dummy. And you’re also so very pretty. So you have to realize you’re flirting on easy-mode.”

“Pick-up lines work pretty well for Soren too. On people that don’t already like him.”

“Because he’s good-looking. And pulls them off with swagger. In the tavern after 2AM. That’s _also_ flirting on easy-mode.” Yeah, that was probably accurate.

“I still say I’ve done pretty well for myself. It’s just common sense in this case to sacrifice broad-spectrum application for increased narrow-spectrum efficiency. It only needs to work on you, is what I’m saying, in non-dork,” he laughed. Responding to the situation, right? The detour to talking about Soren had given him the time he needed to prepare something semi-decent. And she did say she liked the lines dorky.

“Twice in one day?! Sweet Garlath’s beard, what have I done?”

“Inspired me. You do that. All the time.” True _and_ flirtatious. Oh, he was on a roll tonight! It was _so_ hard to play it cool, he had no idea how Rayla managed it.

“And that was thrice,” Rayla acknowledged. “I really will miss this.”

“You think you’ll have fun?” He asked. “With Soren and Corvus?”

“Not this much fun. They’re not you.” She smiled.

“I hope not! They’re not allowed to lick your ears! Tickling… we can talk about. If you really need to laugh and Soren’s patented brand of ‘Katallest mountain’ jokes aren’t doing it for you.” His fingers hovered meaningfully over what he knew to be a spot to go for. “I’ll instruct Corvus on how to do it, tell him it’s vital for the mental health of his esteemed leader.”

Her bright laugher rang through the air, and the reverberations of it through his body where she was pressed against him. He would miss that too. He didn’t want to leave this moment. But they had to get back to work. There were clouds rolling in in the distance. The moon might not be as strong soon.

“Want to try that spell again?” He asked, regretful, but determined. It was important. She needed every advantage she could get.

“Want? No.” She sighed. “Will. Yes.”

And the simple messenger spell fizzled barely a third though the first curve of the rune. Again. For the 32nd time. He had been counting. He had faith in her. He really did. But she had not improved at all since the third or fourth try. Almost the other way around, since she had gotten more tired and frustrated.

It would be so useful though. _Might save her life._ It would let her communicate with Corvus while he was scouting ahead. Let her send a message to someone close, if she was in trouble. Without being bound to an object like Ethari’s arrows, the range was pretty limited, but it was still very useful.

“You can do it! I’ve seen you fight, you’re as precise with your swords as I am with my pencil.”

“It’s not the same. I told you, I’m not very good at this, never were.”

“I was completely terrible at sword fighting, and you got me all the way to slightly-below-average.” He grinned. Rayla knew him well, and had worked with his strengths, and although he would probably never be quite coordinated enough to be spectacular, he was really not that bad at it anymore. Even Amaya had agreed. “And I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge.”

“Fine. Show me the rune again then. My memory doesn’t work like yours.”

He grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. Pressed a triumphant kiss to her slightly pouting, grumpy mouth. “You’re brilliant! It doesn’t!”

“I think we just confirmed that I’m _not_ brilliant,” Rayla said, still just slightly annoyed, but smiling at his excitement.

“No, that’s… I mean… you are, in many ways, but that’s not what I meant! You remember with your body, your muscles. You should have heard the dance teacher rave about you, after you did that waltz perfectly last month, after just one practice round with him.”

“Guiding my hand doesn’t work, we tried that.”

“Because you’re not using your own muscles the way you would if I wasn’t! No, you have to move your hand yourself, but follow mine. I’ll do the mirror image, that won’t do anything, since none of the runes I have in mind are bilaterally symmetrical.”

He positioned himself opposite her reaching out with his hand, his index finger meeting hers. They moved in unison.

The timing was off the 1st through 4th times.

The 5th time she got almost all the way through before faltering.

The 6th time, a bright silvery purple bird burst into existence and landed on his head, nuzzling his ear with its beak. He felt only flutters, the tangible part clearly still needing work, but… it was there and had gone to _him._ Illusions followed the thoughts and desires of their creator, even the unconscious ones.

The 7th time, it fizzled right away because his wide, proud smile distracted her too much.

There was a bit of a not-very-productive break before the 8th time.

The 19th through 22nd times, she did it with her eyes closed.

* * *

She would have Corvus and Soren with her. They were skilled. Dependable. Friends. They were loyal to Katolis, to the royal family. They lumped Rayla in with that family, at least to the point that they would follow her lead. Would they stop her if she was about to do something stupidly heroic and dangerous? They did not know her like he did. Would not stand up to her like he did. Well, maybe Soren would. He had changed. Grown.

His hand traced a familiar path across her taut stomach, her ribcage, the slight raised line where the would-be assassin had stabbed her a couple of months ago. He lingered there. If something like that happened while she was gone… Or something worse. Rayla tutted a bit in frustration. He got the message and his hand moved on to more pleasant places. But his mind did not.

“I’ll miss you.” He did not intend for quite so much anguish to make it into those words. And it was in fact an understatement. The times they had been apart over the past year-and-a-half had not been great. He had not slept all that well without her there. That was probably part of the reason for those petty complaints Ez had mentioned. They had _not_ been fictional. He could not complain about nightmares and irrational worry keeping him up at night, since that would upset Ez, so instead he had complained about a bunch of small things. He had not seen that those petty complaints had built up to more than just annoyance over time. That they had given Ez the idea that he did not like it in Katolis with him anymore. He was not sure he had totally covered that with him, but he supposed he would have time for it. Now.

As usual, Rayla heard what he was not saying. Drew back. “Hey. You’ll be okay. You’ll have Ez and oodles of boring politics to keep you busy.”

“You know I didn’t… sleep that well, the last time we were apart.” She knew. She had been just a bit annoyed but mostly worried that as soon as he had been back in her arms, he had conked out for 12 hours straight.

“You can sleep with Ez, right? He still feels a bit strange… and lonely about sleeping in his dad’s bed on his own,” Oh. Ez had not told _him_ that. “I’m sure he would like it if you joined him.” She asked, her concern evident.

“You know I can’t do that.” He thrashed when he had nightmares. They happened less often now, but still. He had hit Rayla with flailing limbs hard enough to bruise a few times. Once, she had been cuddling him from behind and the impact from the back of his head had split her lip open. Not only could he not do that to Ez, Ez also did not know, and did not need to know, how bad his nightmares could get. King or not, he was a kid, and that was way over the weight limit of what you could put on an 11-year-old _or_ your baby brother.

He ran his fingers lightly across her lower lip. Reminding her why. Swallowing down the self-loathing that came with the memory, because that feeling had led to one of the worst fights they had ever had and caused more harm than the initial strike. One of those fights that had grown and mutated until little was left of the triggering incident, except the taste of blood when they had reconciled, even that part of the memory tainted.

“You can cuddle with Soren though,” he said, only half in jest. She really could if she wanted to. It was not like he relished the thought, but the thought of her trembling and curled up alone was much, much worse.

“I’m good, thanks.” She snickered. “I’m a big girl, I can handle a few weeks without cuddles.

He pressed closer to her, his forehead against hers. “It’s not about what you _can_ handle, Rayla.” That was an old discussion. He had a lot of practice with it. “Don’t hurt without reason. Not if I can help it. Or anyone else can. Okay?” He had won this one long ago. Just still had to remind her sometimes.

“Okay.” She said seriously. “Anything else?” There was no joke in it. She was really asking. That meant she was really worried about him worrying. Completely circular. But he really did have one more thing.

“Yes. Rayla. Be safe. Don’t jump off any cliffs. I mean that.”

“I promise.”

“And the generalization of that sentiment? You’re getting that too, right?” _Don’t accept death._ _Not lightly. Not if you can help it._ That was just too horrible to say out loud, though.

“Hey. I’ll be back, okay.”

“I have a bad feeling. I know that’s normal for me, but…”

He was pushed abruptly into the mattress, Rayla moving to straddle him in a smooth movement. “No.” She said, fixing him with a firm stare. “No more bad feelings! Not right now!” She shook her finger at him in mock-sternness. He heard what she really meant. Agreed too. He did not want their last hours together marred by bad feelings either.

“What are you going to do about it?” He asked teasingly, forcing it a bit, it was just a bit half-hearted, but sometimes, when things were too horrible, you just had to fake it a bit. He had learned something from Rayla’s cocky bravado. Sometimes a bit of that could get you to the real thing.

“Make so many good feelings there’ll be no room for the bad.” She smirked, familiar heat in her eyes. Now, that was a challenge he could rise to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the Rayllum goodness 😊 And rest assured that the Rayllum goodness doesn’t END just because they’re apart for a while after this chapter. They’re THOSE kind of sappy, pining idiots. And I’m THAT kind of shipper, haha!
> 
> Prediction 4) Callum will connect to the moon arcanum prior to the 4th season. Because I think he will, the show hinted that he would, but I don't think they will want the show to be ABOUT him collecting arcanums like trading cards. That would be a more standard chosen-one narrative that goes against what the show has shown so far. Narrative of love and all. 
> 
> Up next: Soren and Rayla hit the road


	5. 4.4 Roadtrip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soren and Rayla hit the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, kudos'ed and commented!
> 
> Enjoy the bro-bonding. There’ll be even more of it next chapter, because I have no self-control 😊
> 
> So I had to prove myself after the complete failure at drabbles that was the prologue chapter of this story, so I wrote an actual real one (exactly 100 words), the ‘countdown’ in the first section, you’ll probably know it when you see it since it’s a deliberate slight stylistic departure from the rest of the chapter. But then I integrated it into the chapter, so it didn’t actually matter that it was exactly 100 words, haha! But it was a fun little exercise.

  
  


December 20th through 27th, 999AB, Various locations

Rayla was actually a little angry for a few seconds, when she heard the familiar wingbeats above the road where she was riding with Soren. Callum had not even made it three hours. Let alone it being overbearing, him flying off whenever he felt like it was one of the things Ez had been upset about. But then she heard Ezran laughing, and the feelings turned to joy. He _had_ listened to Ez.

They set down in front of them on the road, Ez dismounting his brother, Rayla dismounting her shadowpaw, Kito. Ez ran at her, theatrically spreading his arms out, and enveloped her in a tackle-hug.

“Hi, Ez.” She grinned. “Isn’t this just slightly dramatic, considering it’s been three hours since we last saw each other?”

“No! The pain of our separation tears at my heart like the sound of cake trays being taken away!” Ez declared, then lowered his voice to a very unsubtle stage whisper. “I’m mentally preparing myself for what Callum will be like, ‘bout two days from now.”

“Really, Ez? This trip was _your_ idea, not mine.” Callum said, then turned to speak to her, smiling just a little apologetically. “ _I_ thought it might be just a little overbearing. But you did leave so early the jellytarts weren’t finished baking. And Ez couldn’t stand the thought of you guys languishing in a pastry-less existence.”

“Wow, thanks Ezran!” Soren said, happily accepting the bag Callum handed him. “You’re the best boss ever! Rayla probably won’t bring me any pies, but I’m sure she’ll be good too, apart from that.” What?! She would have to address that with Soren. But not right now. They had weeks of travel ahead, and there were precious few moments left with Ez and Callum.

She squeezed Ez in her arms one last time, before he stepped back from her. Possibly also a little dramatic.

“Right. We’re off. That was the deal, Ez. _Just_ delivering the tarts.” Callum smiled tenderly at her. “We already had the emotional goodbyes, we’re not doing that again.”

Okay. He was right. Not doing that again. Sensible. Rayla mounted Kito, leading him forward to where Callum stood. A quick goodbye then. Not emotional at all. Besides, Ez and Soren were looking at them.

She reached down to run her hand through his windswept hair from her higher vantage point. “Thanks… for bringing the jellytarts.”

“Ugh,” Ez groaned, but it was followed by rather fond laughter. “How can you make _that_ sound mushy? You really did utterly ruin her, Callum. She’s a ruined woman, and it’s all your fault. Fine. Soren and I will turn around for ten seconds. That’s how long you have. I’ll count down.” He turned around, making good on his word.

“10”

His face tilting towards her, following the urging of her hand, her heart.

“9”

His hand sliding up her arm, slow and gentle despite the time pressure.

“8”

His hand on her neck, soft caress against her jaw.

“7”

His forehead against hers.

“6”

His quickened breath against her lips.

“5”

His lips against the corner of her mouth, lingering, asking.

“4”

His lips fully on hers now, parted and wanting.

“3”

His lips moving, passionate and tender.

“2”

His lips pulling away, regretful and resistant.

“1”

His fingers grazing her wrist, her palm, light squeeze before breaking contact.

“Turning around!” Ez yelled, then without warning ran at Callum to jump up on his back. Callum staggered under the impact and the weight, but stayed upright.

“Manus! Pluma! Volantis!” Callum declared, more dramatically than usual. Only slightly hindered by his little brother wrapped around him, he spread the wings in a flamboyant pose and fixed her with some imitation of the smoldering gaze of the half-naked people on horses, from the covers of those sappy books he liked. Then the affected expression gave way to a wide, doofy, genuine smile, his green eyes shining with much softer feelings than those muscly men on the book covers. “Tadaa.” He said gently. Her stomach fluttered. Okay. Fine. Maybe he _was_ pulling it off.

They took off, Ez chatting incessantly until they were out of earshot. Something about breaking the 10-second-rule.

She followed their silhouette against the sky as they flew back to the castle and their duties. The uneven towers of Katol Keep were visible in the distance as the morning mist was clearing, but they would soon be out of sight for good.

It would be a long journey with just her and Soren, until Corvus joined them at them at the Breach. Even then, Corvus’ specialty explicitly involved him traipsing through the underbrush _without_ someone like Soren stomping all over potential clues, so it would _still_ be just the two of them for a good deal of the time.

Her and Soren. Weeks of boring road. Well. It would be a trip.

* * *

“Soren. I’m not _actually_ your boss. You do realize that?” She was leading this mission, true, but…

“You’re not? But I’m a Crownguard.”

“That doesn’t make me your boss. I don’t have a title at all, there’s no possible way I could outrank you.”

“But you’re like, basically part of the royal family. The only two members of the royal family think you’re family. That should matter.”

“It matters a lot. To me. But not _officially._ ”

“It’s a good thing you just said you weren’t my boss then.” Soren grinned at her, undeterred. “That means I get to make up my own mind about what my job is on this mission. I’ve been practicing making up my own mind about things. I’ve gotten better at it. And as I see it, the future step-princess in law should fall under the protection of the Crownguard.” _Princess._ The word made her shudder.

“Soren. That isn’t a thing. And if you call me anything remotely… anywhere _near_ or including the word ‘princess’ again…” She thought what an appropriate threat would be. “I’ll- I’ll feed our bread to the fishes, and it’ll be breadless, meatless elf rations for the rest of this trip! There’s _dried_ _kale_ in them!”

Soren looked surprisingly unintimidated at the prospect of a breadless existence. A bit sad, but not about the bread. “You… don’t want to marry Callum? I mean, not _now,_ of course, but… never?” He could be perceptive. She tended to forget that. But the lump in her throat wasn’t something she wanted to look at now, when she hadn’t even discussed that with Callum.

She spurred Kito forwards, turning her face away from Soren. The sting in her eyes dried with the wind.

* * *

“Hey. I… stepped in something back there. Didn’t I?” Soren looked reproached, though he did not need to. You could hardly fault someone for stepping in something you hardly knew was there to step in, yourself.

“Maybe a bit.” Rayla admitted.

“It’s none of my business what you do in your relationship. Long as you’re both happy. I just… you know. I’m pretty sure Callum wants to marry _you._ You remember, during his 16th birthday, after way too much of that cider that tasted like juice? I got him upstairs, while you got him a bucket from the kitchens? He had a lot to say about you. Some of it I really shouldn’t say… I think it would end badly? I’m pretty sure you’d do worse than take away the bread. But some of it was really sweet. Like he went on for a bit about the design for your wedding invitations… trying to bounce ideas off me, but I don’t think I was very helpful, I don’t really know what a pigeon would do on a wedding invitation? But then again, I’m not an expert on that, maybe-”

“Pigeon blue. It’s one of his favorite colors. A kind of grey blue like stormy skies.” Rayla didn’t realize how wistful that came out before she had already said it. The idea of pigeon blue wedding invitations sometime in the future did not scare her at all, nor a lifetime with the dork whose drunk rants produced them. No. It was the title that came with it. Not _wife_ , although she was definitely not ready for that one yet either. _Princess_.

“Anyway, that was how I got the hint that he wanted to marry you at some point. That, and the way he looks at you and talks about you and talks _to_ you and-” Soren stopped, and his expression made it clear she hadn’t succeeded in masking her feelings. “-and I stepped in it again. Didn’t I?”

“Yeah. It’s not your fault though. It’s no one’s fault but my stupid confused head. They’re separate things, in my head - wanting to be - not now mind you! Eventually! - Callum’s wife and a princess of Katolis. So I can want one but not the other. But I can’t be one without the other. And I won’t really be very good at any of them, I know that. But Callum will bear with me when I mess up, and Katolis won’t.”

“That’s just- what? Are you serious?” He looked at her in disbelief. “You _are_ serious. Rayla you’re a… what is it you say when you call Callum an idiot, but like, not mean?”

“Dummy.”

“Yeah, you’re a dummy, Rayla. Remember before we left, when Callum and Ezran were going at it in the throne room? You made them stop and when they got back they were all nice again. Or five months ago, when that assassin came for Ezran during the ball, and you took him out with the Duren ambassador’s hair thingie? After he stabbed you too.” Mildly stabbed, she mentally corrected him. But Soren had obviously been talking to Callum, and adopted his view on the degree of the stabbing. “I mean… that’s princess material right there!” She smiled a little bit at that. It was nice that at least Soren thought so. Even if his opinion was unlikely to reflect that of the general populace.

“I don’t think princesses are supposed to swear in the throne room or drip blood all over the dancefloor.” Or have horns or pointy ears.

“Awesome princesses are! Katolis hasn’t had a princess since Sarai, 12 years ago, and she was the best warrior I’ve ever seen. Taught me a few swear words too. But you don’t have to be like her either. You guys can make up your own minds what the job means, like I am, right? You changed the whole world, it shouldn’t be that hard to change what being a princess means.” 

“Yeah, thanks Soren.” She hated how choked her voice sounded.

Soren rather awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Do you want like… a hug or something.”

“I’m okay. Thanks though.” Did he look… disappointed? She regretted not accepting now. She had a boyfriend, a little human brother, a foster father, all of them very affectionate. She got hugs on the regular. She might just be taking them for granted.

But Soren was already back to not terribly convincing casual jokes. “Just saying, I’m here for you if you want to cuddle or anything. It’s what friends do, right?”

“In what world is that a thing friends do? Are there special noble human families, where they dress up all nice, open the fancy wine and meet up to cuddle?” Rayla laughed. But she kept in mind what he had said. Nuance. He claimed to not know what that was, but… he was lonely. She knew his last attempt at a romantic relationship hadn’t ended well, he had tried to pass it off as a casual mutual thing, but his sparring had been way too affected for that to be entirely true. And he missed his sister. Still. And this mission was poking at old wounds. For both of them.

“Well, I don’t know _all_ the human families, but-”

“Soren,” she smiled.

“Sarcasm, got it. I’m getting better though! That’s only like, the third time today.”

“Oh, you’ll be a pro by the time we get to Xadia.”

* * *

“You can talk to me about her, you know. Claudia. I’m not Callum.”

“Yeah, you’re like… an elf? And a girl? And not all… into boring stuff like books.”

“I mean. I know what Callum said to you, that he didn’t want to remember Claudia. But you do. And if you want to talk about her, you can.”

“Do _you_ really want to remember her? Or talk about her? She wasn’t really very… nice… to you. She really didn’t like you, you know.”

“Yeah I know.” Rayla chuckled. That was hardly new information, or entirely unreciprocated feelings. “But she’s not as sore of a spot for me, as she is for Callum. I can take it.”

“Okay. I mean, I do want to. Sometimes. Like, my buddies in the guard? That’s not really the kinds of things we talk about. I don’t think they would understand loving someone who did something that bad. But you do.”

“The man who raised me killed my boyfriend’s dad. So yes.”

“You can talk to me too then! About him. Runaan. I mean, that’s only fair. I didn’t really know him, but I did meet him once. I fought him. He was a goddamned, fucking-” Soren’s face turned to eager admiration, before remembering the general vibe of the conversation. “I mean, he fought well.”

She grinned at him, reassuring. Really the vibe of the conversation could do with a change anyway. “He _was_ a goddamned, fucking beast!” She laughed. “I sparred with him nearly every day for ten years, I should know!”

“He did this super cool move, kinda _swoosh-_ ” Soren mimicked the motion with his hand. “I tried to copy that, but it never worked for me, I was pretty distracted at the time, because, you know, he was coming at _me_ , so-”

“I know it. I can show you. Wanna give learning it another go?”

“Yes!”

* * *

“What do we do, Rayla?” Soren asked. “When we find my- when we find Viren and Claudia?”

“Not attack them. We can’t win that one. But we’ll try to find out if they’re planning something. Try to sabotage it, if it’s bad-” Well that was a redundant sentence. They were hardly going to be planning a surprise party. “- and if the opportunity presents itself. Narrow down their location while we’re a small enough group to have a chance of not alerting them. Stick Corvus on them, so we don’t lose them again. And then we call in the cavalry. From Katolis, Duren, Lux Aurea, The Spire.”

“Claudia. She… is there any way, you think, that we could… not kill her? I know my dad. What he does to people. What he did to me for 18 years. He did it to her too. It’s not her fault, what’s happening, I know… I know she’s still there, the girl that packed extra socks for me when we went on trips and made pancakes when I lost a sparring match and would laugh so hard she spat crumbs all over my clean laundry…” He trailed off. Looked away. She didn’t want to answer that question. She couldn’t. Lux Aurea was not fond of Claudia. They remembered her role in the battle at the Spire, and that she had used on of their most sacred relics. And _how_ she had used it. The elves that fell to her spells that day had loving siblings too. There was nothing she could possibly say to that.

“Soren? Do you want a hug?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“Really, elves don’t eat bread?” Soren asked.

“No. How is that _such_ a stretch of the imagination? Some elves have something similar to flatbreads or pancakes, but nothing like those weird stale loaves you love so much.”

“But how do elves make sandwiches then?”

“Same way humans do. Two or more people, usually a deficit of clothing…” Rayla snickered.

“What’s funny about sandwiches?”

“Sorry, I thought you knew. Well, it’s kinda an in-joke I guess, but… in Callum-vocabulary, sandwiches mean sex. You know he tries very hard to keep things squeaky-clean around Ez.” She laughed. It was sweet, completely lost cause that it was.

“Does that really work?”

“Not even a little. Ez caught on ages ago. But don’t tell Callum. He still thinks Ez needs the talk, and that he’s gonna have to give it, and Ez and I are playing the long game. I _will_ be there for that talk.”

“What talk?”

“About how babies are made? That you usually get _well_ before Ezran’s age, at least elves do, when you naturally start asking those questions? That Callum thinks he’s gonna have to deliver to his remarkably clever and curious 11-year-old brother who spends all his time around adults or animals and likes to listen at doors. It’s just a little adorable.” She smiled fondly. Soren looked embarrassed though. And he wasn’t usually shy about that subject.

“Uh, yeah.”

A horrible thought hit her. “Have you had that talk, Soren? Do you know-” She really, really hoped she wasn’t gonna have to give the talk to an almost 20-year-old man, years too late.

“Yes! Yes. I was… older than Ezran though.” Another failing on Viren’s part, she thought. Even Runaan, strict as he had been, had not skirted that responsibility.

“Who gave it to you? Not-”

“No, not my dad. Opeli did, after she caught me in the hall closet making out with one of the other squires. I was 13. And then Claudia directed me to some helpful books afterwards, because Opeli’s explanation was a bit, uh… basic.”

“Sorry. That’s rough.”

* * *

Rayla woke, gasping cold night air, terror still ringing through her body.

“Callum-” It came out a pleading, scared whimper, and he was not here anyway.

“No, it’s Soren? Are you okay?” His hand was hovering over her shoulder.

“m’fine,” she gasped, probably not very convincing, but it was all she could manage not to cry. She raised shaking hands to her face, to assess that she wasn’t already. Wet. She wiped it roughly, sitting up. “I woke you? Sorry. You can go back to sleep.”

“No, you were pretty quiet, I just had to take a leak, and you were all… shaking.”

“Bad dream.”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m not _that_ dumb.”

“You’re not dumb at all. Thanks for… waking me.” Her body was shaky, her mind whirling. And Callum was on the other side of the world. His arms around her, his gentle fingers through her hair, around her horns, far away.

She pulled her knees up to her chest to hug herself. It was not the same. Not at all. And Soren was looking at her all… like she was fragile. And she was supposed to be the leader.

“I’m going for a run.” She declared firmly, pushing herself upright, away from the ground and Soren’s worried gaze and the feelings threatening to choke her.

“But it’s dark?”

“Not to me.” She exited the tent abruptly.

“Rayla, wait!” Soren shouted, but she was already moving, picking up speed.

She ran, into the darkness that wasn’t dark to her. She had not even put her boots on, and her bare feet hurt as they thumped down on the frozen ground. Even more when a branch splintered under her foot, sending sharp bits of wood into the soft flesh of her arch. It helped though. Not much, true. Definitely no substitute for Callum’s arms around her, his soothing caresses. But exertion and a bit of pain was infinitely preferable to an empty bedroll and her own thoughts. Even the cold air stinging her bare arms and burning in her lungs were welcome sensations, because sensations were not _feelings_ and therefore inherently less painful.

Soren was pretending to be asleep, when she made it back to the tent. She could tell. He was rarely subtle.

“You know you snore when you’re actually asleep?” She asked.

“No? I’m asleep when I’m asleep. How would I know?”

“You don’t answer either, when you’re actually asleep.”

“Oops. Shit. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. You shouldn’t have to tiptoe around me just because I had a bad dream.”

“It looked like a pretty bad dream.”

“I guess,” she said, noncommittally, sitting cross-legged with her feet resting on her thighs, the soles turned upwards, so she could get at the splinters. She had really wedged them in there, running back to the tent. Great. And now Soren was staring at her like she had grown an extra head. “I know. My feet are weird,” she sighed. He had actually counted her toes the first time he had seen them.

“No? I mean, they’re pretty weird. But I’ve gotten used to your weird feet. The way you’re _sitting_ is weird. Useful though.” He did not lie back down, as she struggled getting the bits of wood out, swearing under her breath. He kept watching her, only moving to silently rummage through their saddle bags, handing her their bandages and water bottle when he noticed the trickle of blood when she pulled out the largest pieces. “It must have a been _very_ bad dream.” He said, sounding completely serious now.

“I’m okay, Soren. It’s normal. Or… well, not _normal,_ but… expected. It doesn’t happen that often anymore. Surely you’ve seen that kinda thing before? You live in the barracks. With the soldiers.”

“Yeah, I have, but… you sounded so… _scared_ , and you’re not scared of anything, far as I can tell.”

“I’m scared of your dad, Soren.” She admitted quietly. She was _terrified_ of him. She had not been when he had attacked the Spire, but that was before she had had time to process what he had done to three of her parents. Before over a year of watching him do it to them in her nightmares. And to everyone else she loved.

“Me too.” Soren said immediately and earnestly, as if relieved to say it out loud. “Uh. Rayla?”

“Yes?” She answered lightly, making a conscious effort to sound more like her normal self, and to straighten up from having reflexively curled in on herself in some wounded instinct.

“Do _you_ want a hug?”

“…yes.” She really did. He seemed relieved to pull her into him, she supposed he was more of a physical communicator of feelings, like she was. It was nice though. Relaxing, feeling his calm heartbeat, when hers was still too loud and fast. Warm, after the cold run. “Thanks Soren,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Works better than that run did.” He was thinking though, he always got so tense when he was thinking.

He drew back to look at her. “Rayla? Your dream. It was about my dad? I’ve been thinking about him, since back when you and Callum asked me about his collection, if I knew what that meant. I really did I try to remember, but-”

“It’s fine. It’s probably nothing. Well. Not _nothing._ He probably just meant he would kill me as he had them.”

They had agreed, her and Callum, when they returned to the castle after he had connected to the moon arcanum. It was okay that there were things that were too hard to do. She would not watch Runaan die, and he would not watch Harrow.

Historia Viventum was temptation and ruin, Lujanne had warned. And it was not all-powerful. You had to find the right moment in time, let the pure desire in your heart guide you there. You had to really _want_ to see it. It would almost certainly have failed for him anyway, in the dungeon and in the king’s chambers.

They had agreed to not try. They already knew what had happened. Already had plenty of fuel for their nightmares.

Soren was frowning though. Thoughtful for a long time.

“…no? I mean. I don’t think so?” He said, finally.

“What?”

“I don’t really think my dad would do that. Call people he killed a collection. That’s not his… thing? I think? He doesn’t kill people to kill people. Everything he does, it has that… thing? Purple thing?”

“Purpose?” She was learning to speak Soren.

“Yes.” He sounded very certain. And he was not dumb, and especially not when it came to understanding the kind of person his father was. He had understood that when an army of thousands had not, when Viren’s lifelong friend, King Harrow, had not, and his supposedly smart sister had not.

She sat in the dark for a while, her splinter-removal task forgotten. It wasn’t _really_ anything new, nor anything concrete enough to do anything with. But it pulled at her chest.

Soren broke the silence, uncharacteristically cautiously. “Rayla? You could have had a hug, you know… _before_ you went running. Alone. In the wilderness. At night. With no shoes.” He said, pausing for a while, then continued. “Callum was all… fidgety and stuff, before we left, and he was kind of… talking without saying very much?” Yes, she was familiar with Callum’s nervous babbling. “But one of the things I did get from that big… word-clump-thing… was to try to stop you if you were going to do something stupid and dangerous.” That was _not_ okay! Callum had been scared, she knew, but still. He had to trust _her_ to stop her. Her dumb foot chose that moment to twinge, as if reminding her that she _hadn’t_ stopped her. That run definitely qualified for slightly dangerous and more than slightly stupid. She had not stopped herself, she had chosen to suffer for no reason, like she had specifically promised him she would not. She had been no better than back in the Oasis, running away from comfort offered to her. And she had to be. It would be a long time until she would see Callum again. Callum who always ran after her, always made it past her defenses.

“Yeah, that wasn’t my brightest idea ever,” she admitted. “And I still can’t get the last splinter,” she grumbled, as she tried and failed, once again to get hold of it. For some reason, that brought her perilously close to tears. Callum, patient and used to handling delicate, tiny things, would have been able to, no problem. She remembered when she had stepped on a blurtle pod last summer. His gentle, clever hands, pulling the thorns out. His lips against the sensitive skin of her arch when he had finished. A hot drop of liquid splattered against the sole of her foot. Oh she had made it to tears now. Just wonderful.

“Hey, I’ve done _way_ dumber stuff!” Soren said, shuffling up next to her and settling his arm around her shoulders. “I once attacked some moths with my sword because I hated the moon.” Yeah, she remembered. “And I once punched a tree because it made Callum sneeze.” Well that one was a little bit cute. “And I attacked a dragon and thought I could take it.” Not so cute. But Pyrrah and him had made up. “And I once accepted a dare to drink a shot of someone’s pee mixed with whisky and cinnamon.” Oh Soren. No. “And I once- …wait. This one is really gross.” _Only_ this one?! “Ooh! I have tweezers! For your foot!” The Soren stream of consciousness truly was a winding creek of unexpected turns and eddies.

“ _Why?_ We’re in the wilderness? I know it’s not some sensible reason like for removing ticks.”

“I like having two eyebrows? I think most people do?”

“Yeah, two is better than one,” She smiled, despite herself and how brittle she still felt. She would have left it there, but Soren usually needed things spelled out a bit more. “I’m glad I’m not alone.”

“Yeah, me too. I feel less alone on this trip than back in the castle. That’s weird, because there were a lot more people around back there.”

“It’s not that weird. If you feel like the people around you don’t understand you, or you can’t open up around them or be yourself, it makes you feel more alone than anything, in my experience.”

“Wow. That makes a lot of sense. Well, no. It makes _no_ sense, because why would people make you feel more alone? But it does? I think I have to think about that, to understand it. You’re kind of a downer today, you know?” He was grinning at her, despite his words.

“Every cross-continental trip is gonna have ups and downs.” She smiled too though, because that was okay, really. Part of life, downs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Up next: It’s New Year’s Eve, on both sides of the Breach


	6. 4.5 New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve on both sides of the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I really appreciate the feedback, I'm testing so much new territory with this story.
> 
> So here's some politics, pining and poo (thank you zuppi for that last one!), all the things that make up a New Year's celebration :)

8.28PM, December 31st, 999AB, Katol Keep, Katolis

December 25th, 999AB

Dearest Callum,

I never know how to start these things. ‘Dear’ is too formal, anything along the lines of ‘my beloved’ is just too sappy. I’m sorry, I know you like it, but Soren peeps at my letters, and I’m sure you agree that-

Oh shit. If Soren snuck peeks at the letters she was writing, he might well have peeked at the letters _he_ had written to Rayla, while she had still been close enough to send them. And his was way past ‘my beloved’ levels of sappy.

-that I need to censor myself for the greater good! Rest assured the sappy feelings are there. I just can’t write them down.

We crossed the Breach a couple of days ago, where we met up with Corvus, and we are in Sunfire Territory right now. The battalion we handed this to will get this letter to Janai, and Amaya can bring it for you when she travels to Katolis. Fingers crossed you’ll get this. I will try to get Ethari to forward my next letter, since we’re passing Moonshadow settlements in a few days. After that, we’ll enter the Earthblood Wild Lands, and I will probably be unable to send more.

The journey has been pretty uneventful so far. Not even a single dragon or near-death experience. Well, there was Soren’s campfire cooking, which got us WISHING we were dead. We’re getting along pretty well, actually. I miss you A LOT. But I’m not as lonely as I expected. Haven’t even needed to take advantage of your graciously bestowed royal license-to-get-tickled yet! I do miss you though. A lot.

Beautiful, beloved Callum! Soren predictably snuck a peek at the first half of the letter, and was very contrite that I was holding back on his account. And he promised to not peek at the second half.

Hi Callum. This is Soren. Well, you can guess that, maybe. I don’t really write all ~~skwickly~~ squiggly like Rayla. I ~~sollemly~~ solemnly swear to not peek at your letters again. Happy New Year! Enjoy your sappy letter, you lucky bastard.

Anyway, happy New Year! Unless you folded like the wee sook you are, and read it early-

Not _that_ early. It was a couple of hours till midnight, but it was definitely New Year’s Eve. He took offense to Rayla’s insinuation that he was any kind of sook. Not his fault he got emotional, thinking of her somewhere in some wilderness with only Soren and Corvus for company on New Year’s. Especially this one. It was special. The cusp of the 1000th year after the Breach was created. But Katolis was not entering year 1000AB. It was starting year 0 of a new age. The Breach was mending. At least the one that had given its name to the previous millennium.

And she was not here to celebrate, even though it would not have _been_ a new age without her. She was too busy protecting the new world to enjoy it like she deserved.

-but it’s okay if you did. I love you as sweet and squishy as you are, and I know you’re not a pushover when it actually matters. Like when you’ll face the foreign rulers. I wish I could be there to see you blow them away (get it?) like I know you will.

It’s making me sad to think about celebrating the entrance into a new age, from opposite sides of the Breach that named the old one. Doesn’t seem right. But we’ll see each other again in year 0! I’ll try to not be sad, and you have to do the same, okay?

Don’t drink too much of the bubbly New Year wine, without me to carry you to bed and make sure you don’t puke in the potted plants. You know Ez found out that was you, back on your birthday? The acidity killed a perfectly healthy fern. So drink a moderate amount of the bubbly wine but have an immoderate amount of fun! That’s an order! Especially the fun. And the not-being-sad. Those are the important bits. I hope you got that. And that it wasn’t actually an order, just very loving encouragement. Sarcasm doesn’t really translate that well to writing. But you know me. And now you know me more, I guess, like how shit I am at writing letters.

Okay, if the invisible ink spell you taught me doesn’t work, I’m murdering you, every Sunfire pervert who read this next part, and then myself. I’m thinking of you all the time, espe-

“It’s New Year’s Eve! Callum, we’ve talked about this! It’s not even been two weeks, you have issues!”

“Hey, give me a break. She gave me a letter to read on New Year’s, and I am! Didn’t she write you one too?”

“Yeah. A way better one. With Sunfire swear words.” Oh no. The last thing Ez needed. He had heard some of those. They were spicy. Ez leant his head on his shoulder, reading along. “She didn’t call _me_ beautiful, though.” He mock-pouted.

“Did she call you annoying and intrusive?”

Ez grinned smugly at him. “No. Rayla appreciates me.”

“Rayla clearly has issues too, then.” He said fondly, leaning his head on top of Ezran’s. His little brother’s increased understanding of sarcasm did have its benefits. “I’m almost done reading it. Then I’ll join you.”

-especially at night, when-

He hurriedly rolled up the letter, his cheeks heating. He glanced cautiously at Ez. He was _not_ ready for the sandwich talk. Hopefully Ez had started from the top and not gotten that far. “Never mind, I’ll read it later.”

Ez looked up at him, all innocent blue eyes. “You sure? You seemed really excited to read it.”

“Yep. Very sure.” Callum said firmly, shaking off the embarrassment. Change of subject was definitely in order. “Are you ready, Ez? To greet everyone?” However much pressure _he_ felt, Ez had it worse. He just had to do some illusion fireworks, and he had gotten pretty good at those. Even managed to mimic heat and a slight shockwave. Ez had to be king.

“I’m used to it. But it’s nice that you’re here.” He wasn’t used to _that._

“I’m here. Out of my dumb head. Putting the missing-Rayla parts in the time-out corner for the night.” Trying to, anyway. Ez had never actually managed to stay in the time-out corner for the time he was supposed to, which was why the metaphor was so apt.

“I miss her too, you know? You’re actually _more_ sappy when she’s not here.” Ez giggled, but then sobered. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you about that greeting. How we should do it. In general.” He looked seriously at him. “What do you want to do? What would you like to say, for example, if people ask - and they will - if it’s true you’re carrying on with an elf?”

“The truth? But… subdued? So no speeches about how awesome she is, I get that.” Callum grinned. “But say it like it is. That Katolis is no longer at war with Xadia so there is no reason to not engage with our neighboring nation - they could do with reminding of that. That it is not a dalliance but a relationship - they could do with reminding of _that,_ too. And that she has duties elsewhere and could not attend, no details. None of their business.”

“I agree. That’s good. We have to be nicer than they will be. But also. Don’t fold. Don’t apologize for stuff you didn’t do. Don’t be a doormat. Plant your feet, like Rayla showed us.”

“I can do that. I’ve practiced. You’re looking at a slightly-below-average swordsman, I’ll have you know.” Callum grinned. But Ez was looking somber.

“Callum?” His voice sounded small now. “What should _I_ say? When the other rulers ask how I could let the crown of Katolis fall into the hands of a man like Viren? When King Ahling asks me how his son died? When they ask why a baby dragon was worth their armies?”

“How you could let the crown fall? Tell them the truth. You were 10 years old and there were enemies at your gates, threatening war. The truth. You were trying to avoid that war the best way you could, that you had two days of ruling experience at the time, and none of your family were present. But now you have a year and a half and your brother and aunt. And that yours was not the only decision that led to Viren being in power or events happening like they did. They could _definitely_ do with reminding of that.” Like Kasef’s choice to present the ultimatum he had, and then follow Viren’s lead into that ill-fated invasion. Their dad’s choices to let Viren practice dark magic within the walls of Katol Keep, giving him as much power as he had, going along with the plan to kill Thunder.

“Okay. It makes sense. I can’t pretend my choice was right, when it turned out the way it did. I didn’t have any good choices, but I picked the wrong bad one. What about the other stuff?”

“As for Zym? Remind them of the stakes. What would have happened if Viren had succeeded. It would have meant open war with Xadia, which the humans would have lost. Castle walls are not meant to withstand dragon fire or earth magic tearing them apart from within. They know that. It’s why there have been a thousand years of mostly-cold war. The elves had nothing to gain from invading. The humans knew they would lose if they did. And the other regents knew Viren. Soren knows Viren even better. He was not motivated by emotion himself, just very good at providing emotional motivation to others. To anyone who knew him, it should be obvious that he did not march an army half-way across the continent and corrupted three armies to kill a 3-week-old baby dragon, at the time the size and temperament of a puppy. Zym was part of a larger plan that had to be stopped, for the sake of the rest of the world - elves _and_ humans.”

“I don’t think… most other people think that much about things. Not like you. You think about things until they make sense. But other people, even the people in power, they are fine with things not making sense. As long as the ideas they have benefit _them._ ” Ez looked tired just summing this up. He had clearly rammed his head against _that_ wall since he took the throne. “But that’s not a new challenge. I’ll think about what you said. And try to phrase it in simpler terms,” he giggled, though it was not that funny. Then he became somber again. “And Kasef? King Ahling will join us when we get to Coltein Hold. He’ll certainly ask.”

Callum set his jaw. “Let _me_ field that one.” Ez had enough hard questions to answer. And this one he was more qualified to address. He had been there when he died.

“Really?”

“Yes. I saw it. I can tell the truth. There were witnesses on the battlefield, it’s easy to confirm. Opeli, Aanya, Gren… they saw it too. And Marcos and Barius and many more. And I will tell them the truth. That Aanya did not kill Kasef, Viren did when he cast that spell. A lot of people deserted that night. Hundreds. Even Neolandia had some of their deserters return, only most of them went to Katolis.” It had paradoxically paid off in a military sense, what Ez had done out of goodness. Most of the deserters from all four of the armies had gone to Katolis where they would explicitly not be punished for desertion. “But they’ll have heard from enough people what Viren did to the army and to Kasef to not doubt _that,_ at least. And they’ll know how the monster soldiers died. We sent them home, and they died in their own countries, despite the efforts of researchers and help from Lux Aurea. So they know it was Viren and no-one else who doomed their armies. I can tell the truth without taking blame that is not mine.”

“I gave him the power. The blame is mine, too.”

“No. We do things without understanding the consequences. That doesn’t make it our fault. Rayla bound herself to killing you, Ez! She didn’t understand what that meant, she caved to pressure and blame and expectations from outside. Like you did. We can only _try_ to make the right choices with the knowledge and experience we have. Then live with the choices and try to do better. That’s all _anyone_ can do. You remember what dad wrote to me? Reject the chains of history. That’s all we can do. Not change the past, but not let the past determine the choices we make _now_.”

“That was really nice. You should say _that._ In your welcome. Not about Rayla binding herself, that would be really bad. But the bit about choices. The other rulers chose to let their armies march on Katolis, follow Kasef, put that ultimatum before me. You’re right, it was not just _my_ choices as ruler that led to this. The only ruler who did not make that choice, and still paid for it, is King Ahling. He was in a critical condition at the time, he was not making the decisions of state, Kasef was. And Neolandia is the biggest issue right-” Ez turned to the door, a welcome childish grin spreading on his face. “Hi Aunt Amaya! We’re just discussing fun boy-things like international politics. Wanna join?”

 _Emphatically no._ Amaya signed, smiling at both of them. _I trust in both of you to light the world on fire like it is overdue for._

He would bid the first of the delegates welcome tonight along with Ezran and Aanya, or well, he would watch as they did they talking and he did his best to look presentable and reliable. He would do the best illusion fireworks he could manage. There would be New Year’s celebrations in Katolis, and then they would travel together to Coltein Hold, a castle near the Breach, where they would greet the monarchs of the other kingdoms. They would show restoration- and development projects in the villages along the way.

He would present the projects he had been personally involved with, like the plumbing and filtration. He was really the only team member of his handpicked poo crew that was suitable to present to a bunch of human ambassadors. Lujanne was too quirky. Ethari was too quiet and unassuming. They were both entirely too elven.

This gathering of monarchs was _complicated._ It was carefully constructed to not be a threat, like Ez had said. It was an invitation that was acceptable to turn down, that had been important.

It was social on top and deeply political underneath. It was not peace talks. It was a social gathering. It was not a formal introduction of the line of succession. It was a party where the line of succession just so happened to be present. And just so happened to be really feeling like showing off magic tricks to the guests. It was not a historical first meeting between warring nations, it was a leisurely excursion to see Xadian wildlife, that just so happened to take them past the mended areas of the Breach, guided by Sunfire biologists. And Queen Janai.

He was a bit jealous. Aunt Amaya got to flaunt _her_ relationship with an elf. Or flaunt was possibly a stretch, he knew they planned to display nothing but a professional, but tight working relationship during the actual event, when all the foreign royals arrived. But at least Janai could be present.

Because unlike him, Amaya had nothing to prove. Had a lifetime of being a stable and reliable presence, a credit to the Katolis military ranks.

Amaya placed a firm hand on his shoulder, like Rayla did when she thought he needed taking out of his own head. She looked at him with no derision though, only warmth and pride. _Kid. Go make fireworks._

* * *

8.28PM, December 31st, 999AB, Edge of the Earthblood Wildlands, Xadia

“Are you thinking about your dorky boyfriend again?”

“Yeah, so what? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re supposed to be all nostalgic.” And supposed to spend it with the people you loved. That too.

“Nothing. It’s nice. To have someone to think about.” She didn’t feel so lucky right now, but she supposed she was. And Soren wasn’t. And it was New Year’s Eve, and they were all the company each other had since Corvus was off scouting, and really, she owed it to him to be better company than some maudlin killjoy.

“It is. Yeah. Not thinking about it is also nice though,” she grinned, turning to look at him properly, forcing it a bit, but sometimes that’s what it took. Better to focus on the actual physical now, the people actually there. She looked up at the moon, almost a perfect half. Soren followed her gaze.

“So, you’ll be able to turn invisible, huh? In a week or so? Like those assassins that attacked the castle. Sounds pretty cool.” Did he intend to hand her such a welcome change of topic, or was he just easily distracted? It was occasionally hard to tell with Soren. But she would take it, regardless. She took the flask he offered her too, probably some foul-tasting alcohol, but eh… it was New Year’s Eve and they couldn’t all have the fancy, bubbly wine.

“Almost invisible, yeah. And I get stronger, faster, more enduring. It _is_ cool, I can carry Callum around like he’s _actually_ made of feathers.” She giggled.

“Was that why you and Callum didn’t come down for breakfast until noon after last full moon?”

She choked on the sip of the liquor she had just drunk and it stung in her mouth as she coughed. Her face heated, and she was very glad Soren didn’t have her night vision. “NO!” She exclaimed hotly. Not _quite_ true, but definitely nothing Soren needed to know about. “What the hell Soren?” She snapped.

“Sorry.” Soren held up his hands in defense, clearly genuine in his apology. “I’m… lonely. I get super weird when I’m lonely. I think too much about what the couples I know are doing. Wishing I was doing them.” Rayla could pinpoint the exact moment Soren noticed the look on her face and registered what he was saying. He was just lucky a year and a half with Callum had built up a remarkable tolerance to absolutely horrible phrasing. “Not like _that!_ Well, also like that. Sometimes. But mostly just… normal things I guess.” Gods, the man was making it hard to stay mad at him.

She sighed, sympathy overriding whatever lingering anger remained. “Soren, what _did_ happen with Petra? I got the feeling your break-up… wasn’t _totally_ mutual.”

“Same thing as happened with Barann. They weren’t really interested in a long-term thing.” _Not_ totally mutual then. Either of them.

“Soren. Have you ever considered meeting people somewhere besides the tavern after two in the morning?”

“We can’t all have our lovers fly off a mountain to carry us away all heroic-like, right? I mean, that sounds pretty awesome, but… it’s probably not very common.” She grinned. True. She was just a bit privileged there.

“Katolis still has options besides the tavern.”

“It’s the best place for it though?”

“Maybe not the best place to meet someone looking for what you are looking for?”

“Clem met his wife at the tavern after two in the morning.”

“Clem is a dork.” She rolled her eyes.

“Exactly! So if he can do it…”

“You’re missing the point. Clem is a bumbling dork, even when drunk, so he met a girl looking for a sweet bumbling dork. You-” She paused, considered him. Tough love? Soren met her gaze straight on, as if giving her permission to hurt his feelings in the name of long-term gain. Tough love then. “You’re a swaggering, charming idiot when you’re drunk. All surface. So you meet people looking for that. And then I bet you go all sensitive and emotionally needy on them, once you feel comfortable.”

He was looking at her openmouthed. Accurate then. She knew it would be. He had done it to her, over the course of this trip. She had certainly done it to Callum and Ez, over the course of the past year and a half. He deflated, slumping forwards his face in his hands. “Why did no-one _tell_ me that? I was thinking and thinking so much, what I did wrong…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Not the way you mean it. It’s not your fault every time something fails.” That had been a hard lesson for her to learn. She wasn’t exactly home free on that point, if Callum was to be believed, and he usually was. But she was getting better, at least. She put her arm around Soren’s broad shoulders. He leaned into her, immediately and gratefully.

“Do you know how to fix it?” He asked, a bit choked and almost pleading. “Fix me.”

“You’re not broken! There’s nothing wrong with _you._ There’s a lot wrong with what you went though, the way you were raised and treated and the things you had to give up, just to do the right thing. I know a bit about that.”

“Yeah, I remember. What you said, that night in the Storm Spire, before the battle. That you knew the cost of turning against everyone you know to do the right thing.”

“You remember that? That was so long ago…” She wondered.

“It was one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. So yeah.”

“Really?” How _bad_ was Soren’s upbringing if her rather curtly delivered olive branch was considered such an outlier?

“Well not nice, like in all sweet and gentle and stuff. I don’t really think you’re that kind of nice.” She snickered. Fair point. “But… nice like, that was something that made you open and… that way you really don’t like to feel? And you still said it to me, who had done nothing but bad things to you at the time, just to make me feel less alone. And you did it again now. Said the thing I needed to hear, even if it wasn’t easy for you to say or… for me to hear? You’re… a really good friend.”

“So are you.” She squeezed his shoulder, drawing him a bit closer. “I’ll take you, neediness and still-lacking understanding of sarcasm and all.” She felt the rumble of relieved laughter against her side, and let the smile that was tugging at her take over.

Being in the company of a friend was not a horrible start to a new year, all things considered.

* * *

Claudia stepped back from the scrying bowl, the inky water fading back to clear. She had to brace herself on the basin, digesting the conversation she had just overheard.

It was New Year’s Eve. Reaching out to Soren… it had been stupid. Childish. A moment of weakness. Her wanting something she could not have. That spell was not even supposed to _work,_ he was supposed to be far away in Katolis. It was supposed to fail so she could go back to wallowing, having gotten the nagging want out of her system.

It was not supposed to _work._ It was not supposed to remind her of the things she used to have, the _place_ she used to have, the place her father’s murderer had stepped into like she belonged.

There were a lot of things that were supposed to have gone differently.

She knew- she _knew_ the important bits were that her brother and Rayla were close and looking for them, but… there were things in that conversation that overrode practicality. The anger was irrelevant. Irrational. Useless. But it was there. Strong and going nowhere.

_…you and Callum didn’t come down for breakfast until noon-_

Callum and the elf were… whatever they were, he was disgracing himself. Taking her into his bed, that was pretty heavily implied. The elf had had those creepy, four-fingered hands all over him. Turned his head, like she had his allegiance. Disgusting, that he would stoop so low, that he would let whatever hold she had on him get so depraved. And Soren did not even seem to see anything wrong with it!

There was a _lot_ wrong with it. Her stomach turned with how wrong it was.

She stopped to consider if it was jealousy, because that was _definitely_ an irrational and pathetic feeling. Even worse than the anger. But it was not. She had never wanted to possess Callum in that way. She had enjoyed his attention. Thought he might be cute if he grew up a bit. Nothing beyond that. No. It was not petty jealousy, the feelings. It was justified. Not _personal_. Valid.

Her feelings did not reflect how _important_ it was though. It was betrayal, but not the first from him, nor the worst.

_…lovers fly off a mountain to sweep us away all heroic-like-_

So Callum had been the one to catch Rayla that day. He could have caught her father, and instead he caught his murderer. Viren had told her after she brought him back that a winged figure had caught her. He had thought it was a Skywing elf. But it had been Callum. And ‘heroic’ implied risk.

Useful to know, the extent to which the elf had him ensnared. He was always a bit scared of heights, and he had jumped off a mountain for her. If he did that, he might well come for her, if they could convince him they had her.

Aaravos would be very curious to hear this, he had taken some interest in Callum ever since the battle at the Spire, where she had recognized him in the distance, flash of blue and red against the rock. Then flashes of lightning. Fulminis. With no primal stone. Later scryings had unearthed some rumors that a human prince had connected to the sky arcanum. And he could apparently fly too. Her sky magic books back in Katolis occasionally had brief mentions of ‘mage wings’ but never a description of how to do it. He was talented, he always was. She had been the only one to see it, the potential he had if he had been allowed to be a mage and not a prince, and he had turned that talent against her, against humanity.

That sweet, scared kid had jumped off a mountain for the elf. He hadn’t even liked it on the ramparts when they were kids. She knew he had changed, of course, that his allegiance had changed. This was just confirmation. And it was only relevant insofar as it was useful. The _feelings_ about this, they would have to go.

_…a really good friend._

So the elf was not content to merely take her father, destroy her and Soren’s mission and then her father’s plans, turn her oldest friends against her, turn a boy who had been infatuated with her for _years_ against her? She was taking her brother too now?

They were close enough to discuss their love lives, apparently. Close enough for Soren to reach out for comfort, to bare his soul and insecurities. He did not do that a lot. Used to be, he only did it with her. Didn’t sound like his life had been easy after he betrayed her family. Served him right.

She looked around the empty cave. Down at her worn boots. But he had a life. Even if it wasn’t easy. He was working on improving it, even though that was even less easy. That… brought some feelings she did not want. Pride. Love. Despite everything. It didn’t gel with wanting him to hurt for what he had done. To also want him to be happy? That wasn’t compatible _at all._ She would have to choose. She already had.

_There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s a lot wrong with what you went though, the way you were raised and treated…_

The elf was trying to convince him that it was her and her dad that was wrong, not Soren. And Soren was falling for it. Soren was looking for love, for friendship. For a new family? She stopped that train of thought right there. She knew where it led.

Her brother wanted those things badly enough to turn to the elf for it.

The elf was going to die. But first, she was going to _fall._

* * *

If you're Rayllum deprived (like me, lol, why did I split them up?) here's a reject header sketch for chapter 4:

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I actually like Claudia, I swear, but she's NOT happy with what she heard.
> 
> Up next: In the first installment of Saturday Crime Time bonus chapters, Ezran and his team of crack investigators are trying to solve a cold case
> 
> I’m splitting up a chapter into two, and posting it as two smaller bonus chapters on the coming Saturday and the Saturday after that. They’re thematically linked ‘intrepid young detectives searching for Viren’ chapters which is why they were originally one chapter, but chronologically it would be out of order if I kept them as one chapter, and I thought it might get confusing. So bonus chapters it is 😊  
> Normal Tuesday schedule continues too, no worries. Saturday chapters are a temporary addition, not a replacement.


	7. 4.6 Swiftly Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the first installment of Saturday crime time bonus chapters, Ezran and his team of crack detectives are trying to solve a cold case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I always appreciate hearing your thoughts :)
> 
> First installation of Saturday crime time bonus chapters. I had a crime writing day a while ago, and tried to write mystery stories starring the main trio inspired by the type of mystery show I thought they would watch, then pulled them genre-wise towards the tone of this story by adding other stuff:
> 
> Ez: Scooby Doo/Famous Five intrepid kid detectives with animal sidekick stuff (more existential angst added)
> 
> Rayla: True Detective-ish gritty, bleak stuff (more buddy-comedy banter added)
> 
> Callum: Morse/Endeavour-type convoluted, intellectual Oxford crime (more cheesy rom-com shenanigans added)
> 
> Callum’s didn’t fit in the story, so may never get beyond the messy stage it is now, but Rayla’s is up next Saturday 😊
> 
> Yes, this supposed mini-chapter is +4K words. It doubled during editing. I’ve apparently lost the ability to write anything concise. I used to have it, I swear. Hope you enjoy anyway!

9.15AM, January 1st, 0A, Katol Keep, Katolis

“It went pretty well, right?” Ezran asked, from his perch on the railing of his balcony. It _had_ gone well, but for some reason, the first day of the new year came with some annoying lingering grumpiness. He hated being grumpy. And his friend was here, and his brother was here. And the weather was even nice, big scattered snowflakes drifting down. Bait was not even grumpy. At least relatively speaking. Bait was always a _little_ grumpy. But he was enjoying catching the snowflakes, and the grumbling was almost happy glowtoad noises. It was _good!_ So why didn’t it _feel_ good? The awful things people had said last night was nothing they did not expect. It was how the world was. Callum could ignore it, but _he_ had to listen.

“Very well. The delegates liked your brother’s fireworks very much.” Aanya smirked at him, like she knew something he didn’t. She usually did, to be fair. “He did have the more fun task.”

“It won’t be fun for him once the other rulers get here. Or for us. But it’s worse for Callum, he hates that mingling-and-greeting-strangers stuff. It made him really upset sometimes, when we were younger.”

“No.” She still had that knowing look. “But he gets to fly off, afterwards. Frolic in Xadian meadows. That was what you were thinking. Right?”

“Yes.” Ezran admitted. Sometimes Big Feelings were ugly, but it usually helped to say them out loud. “I’m jealous of my brother sometimes. That he gets to see the world. And _how_ he gets to see the world. It’s beautiful and I want it. I know I probably shouldn’t. The world isn’t like it is in Callum’s head, and I should be… more adult. Not thinking about adopting adoraburrs.”

“Cynicism is not a virtue for a ruler, Ezran. Merely a common trait of one. It makes it easier, but not everything should be.”

“Uh, sorry Aanya. You’re gonna have to rephrase that for me in dumb-dumb.” He laughed. He had learned a lot of new words since he became king, but Aanya was still way ahead.

She smiled, kind like she was beneath the fancy words. “I mean that the way your brother thinks about the world… It might sound out of touch with the world you have to deal with, but it is a gift. He will help you keep your dream alive when it is hard for you to hold on to it. It is a good dream. It may not exist yet, but it never can unless we believe in it.”

It _was_ hard to believe, when you hardly ever got to see the good things. When you were stuck up here, way above the really good things, like the smell of the jellytarts just finished baking barely reaching them, wafting up from the courtyard. Like the grass and trees and adoraburrs.

There were occasional upwinds today, gusts from below ruffling his hair and carrying snowflakes back up. And then movement, so fast it was barely a flicker in the air. Ezran smiled, despite his mood. There were good things up here too. And he had scolded Callum for pining for what he couldn’t have right now, just _yesterday._ This just wouldn’t do. A change of subject to something lighter was in order. And winter swifts were barely over an ounce.

“Look!” Ezran said, pointing. The swift swooped up along the wall, rising vertically, lightning fast and graceful in the air. “If you hold out your hand, I can make it come. But swifts don’t want to land on the ground, so you have the hold your hand out like a wall.” He demonstrated, holding his hand out vertically. Aanya followed suit, and the little bird landed, clinging to the tips of her fingers with tiny claws, tiny weak feet. “They have really small feet, see? And they’re not strong at all. They’re meant for flying. _Only_ flying. They’re not sad they can’t walk. But I am, sometimes. Because it’s how I feel, too.”

“Yes. It does feel like that, sometimes. That we are but one thing. Rulers. I would like to be more, sometimes, too. Or something else.”

“Me too. I’d like to be a baker. Or a farmer. Or a farmer-baker. And I’d like to explore. Walk on the earth.” Like the swift though, he couldn’t, even though he had nice, strong legs. “What would you like to do, if you weren’t queen?”

Aanya smiled, but there was fire in her eyes and heat in her voice. She was definitely not considering her hypothetical life as a cupcake decorator, that was for sure. “Prove that the moldy skid mark asshole is guilty!” She said hotly. He taught her that. Thank you, drunk Soren. “Viren, I mean. You heard what those nobles said last night. They blame you, or Rayla. But it was him. We know it is. He killed Queen Fareeda and King Florian and-” Her hand tightened to a fist, and the swift took off, startled. He understood the little bird, Aanya was scary when she was angry.

But then he remembered what it had felt like, standing in the throne room yelling at Callum so he wouldn’t cry, because kings… and queens… weren’t allowed. So he reached out to take her angry fist. “Who, Aanya?” He asked gently.

“Patija.” She said shortly, looking up, into the pale sky, the falling snow. “My bodyguard. My friend, if I had been allowed to acknowledge it. I knew her my whole life. I loved her. And she loved me. Because I was queen, I was never sure of that, before she was dead. But now I am.” Ezran looked at her. He was not sure Big Feelings Time was the right thing, she didn’t want to cry, he could tell. She wanted to prove the moldy skid mark asshole guilty. And so did he.

He smiled brightly at her, because he had a really amazing idea. And the bubbly excitement in his stomach made all the heaviness go away. It would be fun, _and_ they got to be something other than rulers.

“Hey Aanya. How would you like to be a detective?”

* * *

“Callum!” Ezran climbed into his bed to straddle him. “Wakey, wakey big brother!”

Callum glared at him, cranky and half-lidded. “Ez, what? It’s not my birthday.” Well, duh. It was _his_ birthday before it was Callum’s again, thank you very much.

“Dummy! It’s the first day of the new year! You’re just gonna sleep away prime mystery-solving hours like a chump?”

“Yes? Look, it got pretty late last night, I hung out with Amaya and Gren and got caught up, and-” Callum cut off, noticing Aanya was there too, and that he was in his underwear, and he got all flustered. Silly Callum. Maybe if Rayla had been with him Aanya would want to peep, but not at his dorky brother. Aanya liked them edgy and cool and Callum was definitely neither. Callum still pulled the covers up, as well as he could with Ezran still straddling him.

“Not my fault if you had too much of the bubbly wine or sat up till the wee hours getting all maudlin!”

“I had a _moderate_ amount, thank you very much!” Callum protested, rather grumpy for someone claiming to not be hungover. “And everyone’s maudlin at 3AM on New Year’s, that doesn’t count.”

“Conjecture! Pure conjecture my good man! Now get up! We are in need of your services!” Callum would understand it was important in good time. Just couldn’t make it too easy for him.

“I’m awake! Just let me get dressed, I’ll listen to whatever it is you want from me.” Hah! He had relented.

“Great! We bring gifts of jellytarts and amazing ideas that will change the face of international politics! And also, you can join our detective squad. As a junior detective. Since you’re the newest member and all.”

“It is a generous offer, Prince Callum,” Aanya said. “In this job market, I would accept.”

“Intrepid girl detective Aanya speaks the truth.”

“Hey, I can fly! Junior detectives don’t have flying privileges, known fact!” Callum protested, sticking his tongue out at him. Then he seemed to remember he was in the presence of international leaders, and sobered slightly, which was odd, considering he had made it pretty clear that him and Aanya were currently kid detectives, _not_ international leaders. Plucky boy detective Ez was definitely not royalty at all, that didn’t fit the character at _all._ He was… a baker’s son. Yeah. That was good. All the jellytarts and none of the pressure.

“Fine,” Ez relented slightly. “We are in fact missing a famous Xadian detective from the private sector - gone rogue, living by her own rules! That’s your backstory. It’s too cool for you, but we have to make do.”

“ _Her_ own rules?”

“Yeah. You know Rayla would have come up with _something_ like that!” Rayla would have been _game_. Callum clearly agreed on his very accurate assessment of what Rayla would have done if they had offered _her_ a spot on their detective squad, because he was looking all fond and sappy.

It seemed Callum had accepted his fate as a female Xadian detective, because he was grinning at them both now. “Okay, I’m in.” He said, sitting up. “I’m not putting on a weird high voice though, Miss… Calla just so happens to have a very husky voice from decades of smoking one of those curly pipes.” Wow. No. But he was playing along, so he got to hold onto the fantasy that his voice was husky.

“Great! Now, let us present the case: we have to use our collective detecting skills to find the place from where Viren sent those shadow-assassins, so you can cast your looky-into-past spell and show the delegates from the other kingdoms tonight!”

“Wait. What? But that’s-” Callum clearly had to digest that bit. But at least he was _finally_ understanding that he really had to get his butt in gear. “I... thought I was signing up for a game." Well, he was. Just an important one. "That’s a hard spell, Ez. I need to really want it on a personal level.”

“If you are insufficiently motivated for the task we have in mind for you, Miss Calla, I advise you speak to Lady Reagin of Evenere or Lord Foy of Neolandia. They blame your girlfriend and your brother for those assassins, respectively.” That had _better_ be sufficient motivation for him! And those assassins had hurt Aanya too, although she wasn’t saying that, being intrepid and all. Callum looked angry. Intense. Yeah, he was motivated alright. Good.

“Okay.” Callum said, seriously. He was thinking now, which was good. It was a good detective squad. Brains and can-do-attitude aplenty. “We have to be quick. We’re moving out tomorrow morning, towards the Breach. We don’t have much time.” He grinned at them, reassuringly though. “Good thing I move like the wind, right?” Completely terrible, but Ezran laughed anyway.

“We need to interview the people who has had a chance of being there the day he presumably did the crime.” Aanya said, standing very straight, but the look on her face wavered just a little bit. Ezran knew what to look for though. He had noticed earlier, and that was why they were currently detectives. Callum would get that, if he really thought about it. He had understood the moon arcanum, and this was basically the same thing. Controlling the real things, putting an illusion on top. But if you said it out loud, you broke it.

He had been really scared when that assassin came for him a couple of months ago, and afterwards, for a long time. And it had been way worse for Aanya. Ezran remembered the horrible, sick feeling when he had seen Rayla, blood soaking her dress, almost limp in Callum’s arms. He could only stand to think about it at all because he knew she had gotten better. And Aanya's friend _hadn’t_ gotten better, she had _died_ for her when that assassin came. It was a good thing she was not Queen Aanya today. It was easier to not be upset when you were an intrepid kid detective.

“So…? Maybe Elaine?” Ezran suggested. “She used to be his personal night servant. He would have surely done such a heinous crime under the cover of darkness, like the cur that he is!” Cur was a good detecting word.

* * *

Elaine curtsied primly, seeming quite taken aback to be faced with a king, a queen and a prince at her doorstep.

“We are very sorry to disturb you on your day off, we would not do so if it was not-” Callum started, very out of character for Miss Calla. She apologized for nothing.

“-a matter of the utmost importance!” Ezran interrupted. “We need your testimony, good lady, for it is a matter of the utmost importance!” Oops, he had already said that once. Words were weird. The fancier they were, the worse it was to use them more than once in one conversation. And ‘utmost’ was definitely one of those once-a-conversation words. Like intrepid. He should probably keep an eye on that one.

Elaine giggled, then caught herself, looking horrified. “Sorry,” Callum said, trying to reassure her. “It’s absolutely okay to laugh when my brother is being ridiculous, king or not.” Of course it was! He forgot he was still king, even when he was a detective. To other people, he still was.

“Yeah, of course it is!” Ezran agreed. “That’s half the reason to be ridiculous, you know!”

Elaine smiled now, seeming mollified. “I am sorry. I used to serve Lord Viren. Your manner is… different than I am accustomed to, is all.” Viren probably didn’t do much in the way of apologizing for inconveniencing his servants or taking time off from the dark magic doing to be a detective.

“Sorry.” Ezran apologized this time. Poor Elaine. Hopefully she was happier in the bakery. He would have to return to ask her. And if she was really not afraid to laugh at him when he was being ridiculous, he might give her a promotion, because that was a rare and precious quality.

“Hardly had none to do with you, you were young boys. And never anything but polite, you and your brother both.”

“So, let’s move on from the apology-deadlock,” Callum grinned. “We need to ask you about Lord Viren.”

“A year and a half ago, he came home from the Summons of the Pentarchy, he was angry, I presume?” Aanya asked, looking just a little defiant. Yeah, she was the reason he had been angry, the reason his plan had failed, then.

“Oh yes. Very.” Elaine definitely remembered. That was good.

“So you remember that night? Or maybe shortly after? Did he ever stay up, angry or thinking?”

“Yes. And that was unusual.” Elaine said. “I was his night-servant, but I hardly ever had to do anything but remove the odd chamber pot. He was a disciplined, early to bed and early to rise kind of man. But he stayed up, the night he came home from the Summons. Sent me to fix him food at three in the morning, would you believe such a thing?”

“So we can tentatively presume that he performed the ritual on May 31st, 998AB, in the early hours of the morning.” Aanya concluded. “Unless he dawdled on the trip back, then it would be June 1st, same time.”

“Oh, Lord Viren did not _dawdle,_ your majesty,” Elaine said, sounding very sure.

“Thank you very much for your invaluable assistance in this important matter,” Ezran said, bowing politely as they left. “Good job team! We have the time of the crime! Which rhymes!”

“Yes. We need a location, though. We might take a guess that it is outside? While the assassins were incorporeal, the weapons they used were assuredly _not,_ and they would need to exit without being seen.” Aanya said. Yes, Rayla and Ethari had said the same thing, according to Callum. He had bound the essence of the dead assassins to their weapons. “And it would surely not be the courtyard or anywhere people could see him? And if he left the castle grounds it gets a lot harder for us, but the gate guards would have taken note of it, surely?” Well, maybe. They _had_ let Soren walk straight out with him hidden in a cart of glowing hay. But it was a start.

“So we should ask at the barracks,” Callum suggested. “Someone might remember something.”

* * *

“Marcos? You were nightwatch, back when King Harrow died, right? Do you remember any unusual activity on the night immediately after Lord Viren returned from the Summons of the Pentarchy?” Aanya asked the young guard, standing at attention when they entered the barracks.

“Uhhh… you mean? A year and a half ago? Unusual activity? Back when… the king had just- No. Sorry. There probably _were_ unusual activity, there were most nights. People panicking, general chaos, staff freaking out about their job security-” Marcos stopped himself, probably remembering that what happened at the time had been pretty bad for him and Callum. “But I can’t remember. Sorry. I can’t even remember if I was working that day.” Callum sagged, trying to control his frustration. It was not Marcos’ fault his memory didn’t work like Callum’s though. “Anyway, that’s what the log is for. So we don’t have to go around remembering every little detail.”

“Log?”

“Yeah. We write down what happens on our shifts. Date, time, our location, and general observations, and if we took any actions.” So basically exactly what they needed. There all along, in some cupboard in the barracks. Marcos was rubbing the back of his neck rather sheepishly now. “Uh, you gotta understand, it gets pretty boring on nightwatch. Those notes, ah-” Oh who cared if they wrote jokes or something in their logbook. It was a _clue!_

They eagerly peered over the book, as Marcos spread the heavy book out and looked up the date they were interested in.

And it _was_ right there. Along with a lot of less than relevant details. But it was there. Probably. Well, it was the lead they were currently following.

“Wow. I was actually impressed that Soren managed get you out of the dungeons without the guards noticing, back when you. But-” Callum was looking a bit worried about the general state of the castle security, but plainly didn’t want to insult Marcos, who was still watching them, looking very much as if he expected some sort of reprimand.

Ez giggled. “Yeah, there were some misunderstandings, that have since been rectified, about what does and does not constitute suspicious activities. There’s a class now. Soren teaches it. ‘Glowing hay = weird and suspicious’ he calls it. It’s very thorough.” Soren had such initiative.

* * *

“Sorry, your Majesty,” Olina said, as they ascended to the eastern ramparts. “I really don’t remember that night. Don’t think anything out of the ordinary happened?”

“Clem almost fell off the wall peeing on some moss?” Ezran suggested hopefully.

“Ah. That doesn’t narrow it down that much. Clem is a dork.”

“He also went on an extended moth larvae killing spree in the bakery.” Callum added.

“ _Still_ doesn't narrow it down. His wife is a real tolerant lady, let’s just say.”

“Joni got reprimanded for writing ah… less than appropriate comments in the log?” Callum glanced cautiously at him. Silly goose. He knew what junk was. Okay fair, he hadn’t ever seen it joked about like _that,_ but still. Callum really was a fuddy-duddy sometimes.

“So it was Tuesday then?” Olina giggled.

“There was an apparently cute rat stuck in the grate?” Ezran suggested. _He_ would remember if it was a really cute rat.

“Ooooh! Yeah! That thing was like, supernaturally cute! Big shiny eyes and all!” Olina looked thoughtful. “Yeah. I remember. Well, not that light you were talking about, that doesn’t ring a bell at all but… I stuck close to the gate that night, because Pavel and I were discussing how to catch the rat so he could give it to Joni as a pet. Joni _really_ liked that rat.”

Eastern ramparts, close to the gate. Line of sight towards the Lower East Tower.

Only one place it could really be. Certainly one place much more likely than anywhere else. One access point. Out of sight, mostly.

Probably as close to a location as they were going to get.

* * *

They had to wait for moonrise, but that was okay. It was winter and the moon rose early. It was not even dinner yet, and the delegates had certainly slept in after the New Year. They had time.

Callum was concentrating really hard, he could tell. He wanted it. But the moon was only half, and the spell was difficult even if it had been full. He had warned them it might not work. And it still might be the wrong location, any of the steps that lead them here could have been something else instead. Detecting was hard. Fun though, he had been right about that.

“Historia Viventum!”

Viren stepped out onto the parapet.

Ezran stepped back.

Fear was gripping him, despite knowing it wasn’t real, only an echo of the past. The last time he had seen Viren, he hadn’t been real either, but an illusion, but the fear he had made him feel was real, and the hurt he had done to Soren by making him kill him was real too.

There was no hesitation or regret in his movements as Viren laid out the ashes of the dead elves, as he readied to kill four people in addition to the four that had died to power the spell. He looked at Aanya, who had gone pale and her expression the way it had been back up on the balcony. It was no game for her anymore either, he thought that was broken for good, now. Ezran hugged her, for her sake, _and_ his.

“Bring terror to Del Bar! To Evenere! To Neolandia! And to Duren!”

Words that hurt the world so much, and he just said them… just like that.

He had brought terror not just to those places, but to the whole world. He had caused fear and chaos that had doomed more than 10000 men and women. And there was nothing to say he felt any regret, or hesitated, or felt scared or pressured to do it, or was reluctant at all. Soren was really, really right. Viren was a _villain._ Not just a cur.

The had solved the mystery, gotten their proof… but it didn’t feel like it mattered. The game was over.

Callum sagged slightly, as he released the spell, but he came forward to hug them both anyway. Ezran didn’t realize he was crying until he was pressed against his brother’s chest. “How- c-could someone just… _do_ that?” He hiccupped. “Like _that?_ Like it was just… okay… to do that- to the world-”

“I don’t know,” Callum said, pulling him close. “But, Ez, he _failed._ He didn’t break the world like he tried to do. He caused a lot of hurt, but he failed in the end. The world will be okay. We’ll help it happen. We _are._ And the world has you two.” And it had Callum too. He _was_ a gift, Ezran forgot that sometimes when he was super-dorky or a jerk, that he was this, too. That he could see the world that could be, undefiled by the ugly things that had happened.

They had found a really ugly painting stashing down with Viren’s things. An elf, naked and crouched like a predator, grotesque and cruel. Purple eyes like Rayla’s, but cold. Ezran had wanted to get rid of it. Callum had painted over it instead, Rayla smiling from the frame now. You couldn’t tell what it had been at all. It was something new and better.

He looked across the courtyard, moonlight on the freshly fallen snow lighting it up. Like fresh, white paint on the world, on the things that had happened. Like what Callum had done to the ugly painting, before he started his own. Primed it, he called it. The world was primed.

Primed for something new and better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first Saturday crime time!
> 
> Up next: Callum has to face the foreign rulers and come across a stable and reliable heir. Easy, right? (up Tuesday as usual)


	8. 4.7 Worlds Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum has to face the foreign rulers and come across a stable and reliable heir. Easy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I really appreciate all the feedback! Last chapter was a bit of an experiment, back to the regularly scheduled politics and bro-bonding for this one :)
> 
> Ugh, this chapter is so long and covers so much stuff, and there was no good place to break it up, so here go the monster chapter.   
> I’m… worried about this one. I don’t want to go too overly in-depth or realistic with the politics, because that would change the tone and flow of the overall story, but I don’t want to ignore it either. And I don’t want it to get too dry. It’s a balance, and yeah. Not sure about this one at all. Politics is NOT my strong suit, but it’s a big part of the show, so I tried. I kinda have to do a bit of everything when I try to model the plot on a season of the show.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

  
  


5.32PM, January 7th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

Just three.

Callum was one of three.

Out of those three, it had to be him, as the representative. He knew.

Three humans known to be connected to an arcanum.

Ellis had made the connection to the moon arcanum shortly before he had. She had to work a lot harder to make spells work than he did, her memory was not like his and her hands not practiced in drawing shapes precisely, but she was remarkably talented in shaping the illusions once she got the rune part down. More than him in some ways, her imagination was truly boundless and horrifying.

Villads had made the connection to the sky arcanum so easily it was basically a formality. Callum had been just a bit taken aback, considering the same feat had nearly killed him. It was something to consider, why he had not had it already. Maybe he did, but not the full thing? Some piece missing to make the full connection.

Other people had tried, but none succeeded. It was not clear why.

Ellis had grown up near the moon nexus, had a natural inclination for nighttime, for imaginary horrors. She could always imagine something as if it was real to her. She understood the concepts of perception as reality intuitively. And she was young, like he had been when he made the connection to sky. Lujanne certainly thought that was a factor, that the minds of children, pliable and full of potential, would more easily be able to make the connection.

Villads was an adult when he made the connection, but he had already been primed to make it from decades of attunement to the wind. The biggest mystery here was what made the difference. The knowledge that it was possible? The presence of Callum, someone already having the connection? Maybe you needed a guide. He had had Azymondias, after all. Or maybe you just needed a conduit.

Like the cube.

The Key of Aaravos did more than just glow. It was pulled towards somewhere, leaving tracks on the ground when rolled, lines always pointing the same direction, into unknown territory and very far away, which was why he had not tried to follow it. The direction was east, but even as far east as he had ever been, the Skywing academy in the mountains east of the Storm Spire, the trajectory had barely changed, compared to further south. That meant it was a long, _long_ way east. He had tried to triangulate it, but wherever it was, it was far east of any map he had seen. And as curious as he was, there were more important things than some vague mystery weeks of travel into unknown and no doubt dangerous territory.

Like show off his magic to bigoted old farts, apparently. Be _presentable_. Come off as a sane and reliable heir to the throne of Katolis.

Callum looked in the mirror. He didn’t look like himself. He looked nice, objectively speaking, for him at least. He had not looked this clean and neat in months. No stains or wrinkles in his clothes. No messy hair from an early morning flight. No Rayla wrapping her arms around him from behind like she did when he got all somber like this in the morning. That was definitely the worst part of the kind of presentable he had to be.

He ran his hand through the too-neat, too-short hair. It had been perpetually windblown for a year and a half, with Rayla cutting it to the best of her very limited haircutting-ability whenever it started getting in his eyes. This just looked wrong. And the sleeves itched and restricted movement. No flying today. They had agreed. Break it to them gradually.

“You ready to show off?” Ez asked, entering his room with Opeli. He put his arms around him. No poky crown yet. He had brought it with him, but not put it on. He squeezed his little brother extra tight. They both might be overcompensating just a bit, but… it was nice. And better than doing too little.

“Pfff, I’m always ready,” he grinned. “That’s just who I am. Ready for the zap hand and the flashiest illusions this side of the Breach. _Super_ ready to break wind on the nobles!” Opeli tutted, but it didn’t matter because Ez giggled, like he knew he would. Ez still liked fart jokes. He was not _that_ grown up.

Callum was _definitely_ overcompensating, in regard to how ready he felt, though. Ez picked up on it, he did tend to do that. “Sorry. I know you don’t like having to impress people.”

“It does have to be you, Prince Callum.” Opeli said. “Even if you were not the crown prince, it is important to show that that humans can do primal magic. I am sure you have heard the rumors of increased use of dark magic in Evenere and Neolandia. If you want to make headway in outlawing its use, that is an important argument for that. There are only three humans currently known to have a connection to an arcanum, and the other two are… eccentric.” Yeah, that was putting it mildly. “It has to be you.”

“Yeah. I get it.” Ellis was too young, and her specialty being mind-melting eldritch horrors that completely freaked your bean was not really ideal when they wanted to show primal magic as a _positive_ alternative to dark magic. And Villads had no interest in- or aptitude for the spells at all. “I can do it.”

“Prince Callum.” Opeli looked rather firm, though not unkind. “Do not apologize unduly. Stand up straight. Try to not… flail your hands, like you tend to do. Project confidence.” He met her eyes to demonstrate. He could do it. “And expect to defend yourself.”

* * *

The queen of Del Bar. Kalori. “Prince Callum.” She greeted him in clipped tones, cold, but still lot nicer than the last time he had seen her. The then _Princess_ Kalori had refused to call him a prince then and had been giggling about him with Soren when he accidentally put his elbow in his souffle. He had been 13 years old and wanting to die from embarrassment. Well. No. He had wanted to _leave,_ more than anything. He had been trapped in some stuffy ballroom making nice with people who were not nice at all. Ands still was. But the crippling self-doubt and feeling of being useless was much less overwhelming this time around.

“Well met, Princess Kalori.”

“Queen.” Oops. Great start.

“Queen Kalori. I apologize. A slip of the tongue.”

“You have been absent from court too long to keep up with who rules the five kingdoms, I see. Or have you merely limited your interest to those kingdoms who agree with the outlandish political decisions Katolis has made since King Harrow passed?” An amazing start, really.

“Neither. It was, as I said, a slip of the tongue, nothing more. I have had business away from the five kingdoms, that is true, but that does not mean I am uninformed on, or uninterested in, the political situation within the human kingdoms.”

“The magic you showed us. That is the business you speak of? Or is it your dalliance with a Xadian barbarian?” Oh, Kalori had not changed much, becoming queen. Nor become more subtle about the digs.

“That, and relations with our new allies. Achieving insight into a culture so long divided is essential to upholding the peaceful and mutually beneficial relationship between Xadia and the human kingdoms. A degree of assimilation is necessary to that understanding. You could say I’m a bit of a Xadian barbarian too.” He said, grinning lightly, just a bit defiantly, daring her to keep up the insults. Being a doormat would solve nothing. He had to not be insulting back, but not back down either. Not apologize for who he was. Maybe it _was_ good Rayla was not with him. The not-being-insulting part was not really her forte.

“You are the crown prince of Katolis.”

“I can be both.”

“Impressive.” She did _not_ think it was impressive.

“Right? It’s a whole big world of opportunities to not be defined by one thing. Especially if it is a thing that divides us and hurts both parties.”

“You are more… opinionated than I recall.” Queen Kalori said.

“My-” _My Xadian barbarian rubbed off on me._ But he probably should not say _that._ “-experiences over the past few years have helped me grow. Change.” Tomorrow he would show them the wings, and she would see how much. “My devotion to my country and my king-” Brother. Not king. But in this room, Ez was King Ezran. “-remain unchanged, however. I do what I do for Katolis.” Not _just_ Katolis. But in this room, he was a prince of Katolis. “The world is changing, and so must our nations. I have endeavored to facilitate that change. And will continue to do so.”

“The change you speak of constitute forgiving a thousand years of monstrous deeds. Bowing to the nation that murdered my father.” She faltered a bit. He actually felt sorry for her. Despite how little he liked her, she had been crowned queen at 16 when her father died. It was better than Ezran, who had been 10, but still. He did not envy her position. And he remembered what Ez had said about not crying in the courtroom.

“We presented evidence to the contrary, as you well know. We cannot control how you choose to perceive that evidence, but Katolis has shared all the information it has uncovered as to what happened. We are not at war with Xadia. We have not surrendered to Xadia either. Peace requires allowing both parties a chance to start afresh. No one can atone for every decision every member of their nation or bloodline ever made. It should not be a prerequisite for cooperation. Even choices that we ourselves make, should not guide every subsequent choice. We all make choices limited by the experience and knowledge we possess at the given time.” Sympathy made him not directly say that she had signed off her nation’s army to Prince Kasef’s authority. That she had made choices too. Under duress, but she had.

“But you accept the amends they make towards Katolis and Duren. Insulting trifles compared to the damage it is supposed to allay.”

He remembered Rayla standing in the Moon Nexus lake after she had fought Soren, wet and miserable and covered in mud, telling him she did not want his towel peace offering, did not want to be the sort of friend that made their friends make amends. But it had honestly not been amends then, and it was not now. It was a choice to be kind, because someone else needed what you could give them. It was the same thing, maybe? “It is not amends. Choices were made by both sides. Now new choices are being made, to share knowledge and resources. A gesture of good faith and cooperation. Of friendship. Not amends.”

“I see.” She did not. But maybe she would. With time. “It seems simplistic.”

“My father said to me, before he died, to not let the past determine the future. It _is_ as simple as that. It is most certainly not _easy,_ though. But it is worth doing.”

* * *

“King Ahling. I am pleased to see you are better. My father spoke of you very fondly.” He had been an amiable man, by all accounts. _Had been._ Ezran’s interactions with him had given a very different impression.

“Yes. King Harrow was a good man. A loving father. As was I.”

“I am sorry about your son.”

“Really? From what people tell me, he attacked you, and the Queen of Duren, also here today I note, killed him. Why should you be sorry?”

“For a father, I can be. And Queen Aanya did not kill your son, Lord Viren did.” If Aanya had killed Kasef, he had killed many more. But she had not. Viren had. The soldiers he had corrupted were never cured, and none of them had lived more than a few weeks past the battle, their lives, or what remained of them, burning away hot and fast. Which King Ahling knew.

“ _King_ Viren. At the time. If that is what you are going with, you are saying King Viren of Katolis killed my son and the rest of the soldiers he brought with him. And your brother handed him the power to do that.”

“You question King Ezran’s judgement. But his were not the only decisions that led to events unfolding as they did. My brother was 10 years old at the time, and your son marched three armies to his doorstep and threatened to wage war on Katolis. I realize you were indisposed at the time, and did not authorize him to do so, but-”

“Indisposed?!” King Ahling’s voice was raised now. “I was fighting for my _life_ at the time! Because of the beasts you seem so very enamored by! Have allied with!”

“We presented evidence to your delegates that that was not the case. Xadia did not send assassins to Neolandia, Lord Viren did, operating as an independent party without the knowledge or mandate of Katolis. King Harrow had recently passed at the time, and the chaos allowed him opportunities he should not have had.”

“The ‘evidence’ you speak of used magic. Magic, which you plainly showed today that you can shape to show whatever you please.”

“The spell I used show the past as it is. You cannot tamper with it. You are very welcome to contact whichever independent knowledgeable party you like, to verify that claim.”

“You have a knowledgeable party without horns? Because that is as good as none.” What did you do when logic was just bouncing off a stupidity-wall?

“As of now, only me and a young lady, Ellis, who I will put you in contact with if you desire. And by all means, send messages to Moonshadow cities or magic academies - lines of communication are present now, that was some of the business I have had in Xadia over the past few years - and you will get the same answer I gave you: that Historia Viventum shows the past and _only_ the past.” But no-one could change the mind of someone who did not want change. No one could really _argue_ with ignorance, when anything you said could just be denied as biased, regardless of the actual content of your argument.

King Ahling scoffed angrily. “I think I have better things to do than that. A grieving daughter. A grieving wife. A kingdom in ruin. You understand.”

“I do, in fact, as you well know. And I meant what I said. That I am sorry for your loss.” Ezran. Not-crying in the courtroom. Remember that. Remember that, to stay calm and sympathetic in the face of irrational jerkfaces.

“Did you like my son? You met him a few times.” Well, no. His only two encounters with him had been Kasef sneering at him when he had fallen off his horse when he was 12, and then when he had attacked him at the Storm Spire.

“He did not deserve his fate.”

“That was not an answer.”

“It is the answer I gave, King Ahling. Truthful but unsatisfying. Which to me is better than a lie.”

“Yes. There’s something to be said for that. The truth is hard to come by. Especially in Neolandia. Only a few straggly deserters returned from that ill-fated march on Xadia. No officers. No-one who witnessed the final battle, or my son’s death. But King Ezran informs me that you did. Tell me. If you would. Your truth.”

“I was stationed up on a plateau above the battlefield, since I was one of only a few mages present that day. I was to defend the stairway to the top of the Storm Spire from the soldiers who made it past the line of defense down on the plains. Prince Kasef made it past. Lord Viren’s spell had changed him as it had the other soldiers, he was enraged, his body and mind transformed. He came at me with his claws. I tried and failed to defend myself with magic, as I was inexperienced at it at the time. He struck me. My sketchbook saved me from being gutted. He grabbed my throat. I was choking. Queen Aanya shot him. I lived. He died.” No way to tell this sensitively. Curt and precise would have to do. Truthful, most importantly.

“You are young. Younger even, back then. You would have been 14 years old, if I’m not mistaken.” He knew how old he was? Right. He had once been instructed to show Prince Kasef’s little sister, Noura, around the castle, which had made him very nervous at the time even without the implications he hadn’t understood then. At least _that_ was definitely off the table now. “Why were you on the front lines of a battle?”

“I chose to be. I chose to defend the Spire and the dragon prince, Azymondias. Along with my girlfriend, only a year older and my brother, almost five years younger. It was no ordinary battle.”

“Yes. I heard. Your girlfriend. The elf. Who killed Lord Viren during the battle. I should thank her for avenging my son, if your truth is to be believed.”

“She was sadly unable to attend.”

“Not many people would welcome her. What do you think your father would say about his son fraternizing with one of the assassins sent to kill him?”

“Rayla is not an assassin.” And his dad had preached a narrative of love, and that was what he was doing. But saying that constituted defending something that was untrue in the first place. Rayla was not an assassin.

“But she was.” King Ahling said, triumphant. “Rumors on that are plentiful, and her actions during the summer ball confirmed it. Delegate Matine is a former military man, and he saw the way she moved and fought. His story was very clear that no amount of silken finery could mask the vicious nature beneath.” _Viciou-_ CALM! Callum breathed, past seething anger. He remembered that night all too well. Rayla, sweet ridiculous selflessness itself, reaching out with bloodstained hands to comfort and calm _him_ despite the pain she was in. Asking how Ez was, even as she trembled in his arms. _Vicious?!_ The delegate had seen that too, if he had been close enough to see the fight. What were you supposed to do if people just saw what they wanted to see? He had to stay _calm,_ though. He definitely had to do _that._

“If he saw that, he will have told you her actions. She intercepted an assassin sent for King Ezran at great personal risk. She did not kill or even permanently harm the assassin. Her actions prove her loyalty to King Ezran, as well as her courage and nobility.” Divorced from history, race and prejudice, that was, and therein lay the problem. “I am sure your ‘former military man’ would agree that skill in battle alone does not equate to a vicious nature.”

“That is besides the point.” No the _fuck_ it wasn’t! “The elven blood equates to a vicious nature. It is well known. You are biased on that subject, but do not try to convince me of something that goes against known fact.” He had to get _out_ of this discussion that was not a discussion! You could plainly not discuss anything with someone who did not actually seem to know what fact was.

“Beliefs based on nothing but nursery tales does not equate to fact!” Oh that was too loud. It was starting to get _very_ hard to stay composed. “Didn’t Neolandia use to believe that barnacle geese grew from actual barnacles? And then that ‘known fact’ was disproven when you found out they simply did not nest in Neolandia, but further north in Duren and Del Bar?”

“Calm yourself Prince Callum. If you think passion will convince me, you are mistaken.”

“It will at least convince you that I am passionate about this. The world is changing and Katolis is adapting. The elves are our allies. More known facts are disproven every day. Nothing you or I do will change that. I hope Neolandia will be part of that change, given the time to consider.”

* * *

“Prince Callum?”

“Yes, that is me. Sorry, we have not met? You’re King Tameek of Evenere?” Queen Fareeda’s brother, a young, athletic-looking man, was to his surprise smiling quite amiably at him. Military, Amaya had said. Or former military anyway. Amaya had actually quite liked him, she had said, before he went and signed off his army to someone who used that authority to threaten her 10-year-old nephew.

“Regent. Not King. I just keep the seat warm until my nephew comes of age, you see. Then I’ll go back to my saddle.” The man laughed, then very firmly added. “ _Happily._ ” That was… surprisingly informal. Well, he would be _extremely_ happy to let go of the formality just a little bit. And Not-King Tameek started it. Surely it was okay?

“Yeah, I get it. I will happily go back to being the spare when my brother has children.” Let him know he does not have designs on the throne. Was that what he was fishing for? Well, he could be very truthful there.

“And you will be a mage then?” Tameek looked at him, gauging. Callum met his eyes in affirmation. “Well, not the worst thing to be. I liked the drinks! How did you make those bubbles without any of that kinda… beer taste? Don’t drink alcohol anymore, what with too many important duties these days, but I do miss the bubbles, so I appreciated that.”

“The fizz is in the air. There are different kinds of air, and the fizzy bits is one of them. So I separate the fizz from the air and force it into liquid.”

“Sounds hard. Looked hard too. You looked like you were concentrating much harder doing the drinks than shooting lightning bolts. I would have thought that was harder.” Oh, this man was not as laidback as he appeared. He had been paying attention. Still was.

“No, lightning bolts are actually pretty easy. Just looks flashy. Separating parts of the air you can’t see is much more difficult.”

“So why did you do it? Seems an odd thing to put so much effort into, much as I appreciated it.” No, this man was _not_ stupid. He was gauging. Watching. Watching if he was being honest, too.

“A little rebellion. That spell is usually used to separate the parts of the air you _breathe._ But I did not want to do that.”

“But you could?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. I’m… even more glad you chose the drinks then. I like breathing.”

“Most people do. It really ought to be a basic human right. Hence why I did _not_ do that. And another reason. My girlfriend really likes the fizz.” He let himself smile, fond and genuine. Let Tameek see it. Rayla was a person, and maybe little things like this would build up to let people realize it. Monsters did not get all excited about fizzy drinks.

“Too bad you probably have better things to do, or you’d have a job as a bartender in Evenere.” Tameek laughed amicably.

“You don’t need me for fizz. The idea for the fizz was a type of elven drinks. They’re fermented, but in a special way. More fizz and less alcohol. I can get you the recipe, and necessary ingredients if you’re interested. Moonshadow elves use a kind of fungus to ferment all kinds of fruit juice and teas. It’s healthy too.”

“And that’s why your girlfriend likes the fizz? Why you have been away from court for the past few years?” Dangerous ground now. And this man was amicable, but he was clearly scoping him out. But they were not hiding. Not flaunting, but not hiding either.

“Yes. If you’re trying to confirm that she is elven, I can do that. She is. If you’re trying to confirm that I’m a bit unorthodox, I can do that too. I am.” He said, a little defiantly. “Not spending my days in courtrooms does not make me unstable, however. Or less devoted to my brother, my king or the wellbeing of the people of the human nations. All of them.”

“Yeah, people have been telling me that. That you have an elf girlfriend and spend your time in Xadia, er… frolicking. I was led to believe you were a bit unhinged, too, after that ball where someone, you didn’t hear this from me, but Neolandia, sent an assassin after King Ezran. But you seem fine. Doesn’t seem that unhinged to me, getting upset about your brother nearly getting killed and your girl getting stabbed by some other guy.” The shit-eating grin let him know it was dirty more than the actual comment. He was starting to see why Amaya had liked him. “But ambassadors do enjoy their gossip and drama. How is she, by the way? Not with you, I see? I was kinda looking forward to meeting her, actually. Sounds like an interesting girl you’ve got there.”

“She is!” He said eagerly. “And she’s fine. She just has business elsewhere. We would be happy to visit Evenere at some future time.” Well, happy was maybe a stretch. But Rayla did like the chocolate. And doing good. And it would do a _lot_ of good, if Evenereans got positive impressions of an elf.

“While I would personally be delighted to have you both visit, I cannot recommend it at this point. I could not guarantee her safety.” Well, at least he was honest. But it was surprising. He did not prescribe to Lady Reagin’s theories, presumably, that Rayla was somehow involved with the assassination of Queen Fareeda.

“There have been some misunderstandings, I understand. That my girlfriend or Xadia in general was involved with the assassinations of King Florian and Queen Fareeda.”

“Yes. A lot of wild speculation going around. I have no interest in such nonsense, I would prefer to see justice done to the person actually responsible for my sister’s death.”

“And you believe the evidence we presented to your delegates?” Callum was hesitant to believe it, after hearing from King Ahling.

“Yes. I did not sit on my hands trusting in rumors after someone murdered my sister. I did believe it was Xadia, everyone did. Elven spectral assassins wielding elven weapons. But further research by the High Mage of Evenere threw some doubt on that belief. She heard the descriptions of those, like myself, who witnessed the attack, studied the weapon left behind when the assassin disappeared, and after some consideration, presented the dark magic spell that was likely used to accomplish it. I have never known elves to use dark magic, they seem extremely high-and-mighty in their disdain for the practice. And Fareeda told me how angry Lord Viren was after she returned from the pentarchy. My delegate who attended your New Year’s celebration sought out witnesses to the attack on Katol Keep where King Harrow was slain, who confirmed that the elven assassins who attacked that day were all slain, which would have supplied the components necessary for the spell. I would not have believed your evidence had it not made sense. But it does.” Was…not-king Tameek trying to prove himself _too?_ To _him?_ That he was not to be trifled with, despite the state of Evenere’s army and his lack of experience as ruler. That _did_ make a surprising amount of sense, now that he thought about it.

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Yeah. I’m more sorry about her kids. But you get that. You and your brother. I became a father when I became a ruler, in more than one sense. I am trying to protect my children. All of them. I failed at that once, and that will not happen again.”

* * *

“Prince Callum.” Aanya greeted him with the first smile from a foreign visitor he did not have to suspect was ingenuine.

“Queen Aanya. Anything I should know?” Aanya was nigh-brilliant at that. Picking up vibes.

She lowered her voice. “Queen Kalori does not like you.” She said conspiratorially, as if revealing some great secret, but her eyes were sparkling.

“Something I _don’t_ know.” He grinned.

“She respects you.”

“What?!” That _was_ something he didn’t know. “Really? I didn’t know _that._ ”

“Oh, I’m sure Queen Kalori does not know it herself.”

“Not-king Tameek - uh, what do you call someone who’s not king, but regent? - well, he was surprisingly friendly.”

“Depends on the regent. Just call him Lord Tameek. He is a strategist. And less hostile to Katolis than Del Bar or Neolandia. For two reasons. Firstly, he has actually met elves, he was military. Not like he exactly likes them, but he knows they are people and not monsters. Secondly, he might not be happy with the choices Katolis made back then, but he is not happy with Neolandia either, with what Prince Kasef did with the authority he granted him, when he threatened to declare war on Katolis or followed a madman into ruin. And of those two evils, Katolis both makes a better ally and unlike Neolandia has acknowledged that the choices that were made were not ideal. He is not opposed to an alliance, what he came here to do was suss out the people in power. You and Ezran. He was the one who handed control of his country’s military forces to Prince Kasef, and he is wary of once again handing power to someone grieving, potentially unbalanced and very young. If you came off sane and measured, I’m sure that is already putting his mind at ease.”

“And King Ahling?”

“Well, it is hardly going to be you or I that will have a chance of getting through to him. Maybe Ezran. With time. He has a way of getting through to people.”

“I don’t think I managed to come off as very measured with him. I don’t think he wanted me to, he was insulting Rayla right to my face. He knows of our relationship, what did he expect?”

“He does _not_ see elves as people. And is unlikely to change that view, since he is refusing to accept experiences that might contradict it. He has declined to join the excursion across the Breach tomorrow.”

“That is a shame.”

“Yes. But he is the only regent who has declined. And royalty talks. Nobles talk. The talk will get to him. Give him time. And time with Ezran. But do not bend over just because _he_ does not budge.”

“Oh, I didn’t bend over.” Callum said, tamping down the anger threatening to resurface. “And I won’t. But it is good news, about the other regents. I didn’t think Kalori would agree.”

“Queen Kalori is 18 years old and has spent the previous few years with politicians. She is not particularly pleasant or open-minded, but she is bored and curious despite herself, and we have to take the openings we can.”

* * *

“Prince Callum.” Janai smiled warmly at him. “I am glad to see you again.”

“Queen Janai. Likewise.” It _was._ Janai was like Rayla, aggression and bravado on top but intensely kind underneath. She was friendly and did not stand on ceremony. And she made Amaya happy, he could tell. “Have people been treating you alright?” He asked, a bit concerned, remembering the comments King Ahling had made.

“On the surface, yes. Embers underneath though, with some of them. The older man?”

“King Ahling. Yes. He is not fond of elves in general. I hope he was civil, at least. He certainly wasn’t to me.”

“Civil by Lux Aurea standards.” Janai smirked. Yeah, there was a quite bit more social acceptance of aggression in Sunfire culture. “For humans, I am sure he was quite rude. The redheaded King Tameek, he was friendly. Oh, he was watching everything I said, I have no illusions as to _why_ he was being friendly. But I do believe his curiosity about Xadia and Sunfire culture was genuine. And if nothing else, that means he sees value in collaboration.”

“I’m sure it was genuine. He was paying a lot of attention to the magic I did, too. You talked to Queen Kalori?”

“Briefly. She left when Amaya joined me. Very abruptly.”

“Yeah, they go way back,” Callum snickered. “Speaking of. Hello Aunt Amaya.”

 _Callum._ She turned to Janai, mischief that was pure Ezran spreading on her face. _Pumpkin._ She paused, holding Janai’s gaze until a faint blush spread across her dark cheeks. _It is very good, the pumpkin dish. Zesty. I recommend it._

“Amaya, I’m _right_ here.” Callum grumbled. He was starting to see what Ezran meant. Rayla and him were probably _less_ subtle.

 _I did greet you first, Callum. Have you talked to all the regents without folding like a wet rag and taking on responsibility that is not yours?_ Amaya asked sternly.

“Yes! I don’t fold. I might not have been as presentable as you guys ideally wanted me to be, but I didn’t fold. I planted my feet. Rayla showed me how, remember?”

 _How are you holding up? As Prince Callum?_ She was honestly worried, he could tell. She had listened to quite a lot of adolescent angst on his part, since she had been the only adult in his life he could open up to at the time. Amaya _also_ remembered a fidgety 13-year-old, thoroughly miserable in the role as prince.

That was harder to answer. “Well, it’s definitely not my favorite thing to do, this thing. But it’s important, I do see that. And…” He looked Amaya straight in the eyes, sure in this, at least. “I can take it. The attacks on my girlfriend, my relationship, my character and my mental stability, the criticism, the stubborn refusals to listen to facts or reason, the subtle digs and the not-so-subtle. I can take it. I’m stronger than you remember.” He said the last part a little defiantly. It had been a long time since they had spent any length of time together. They were fixing it, though.

_I know you are strong. And the worst part is over. You can relax now._

“Really?”

 _Wow. No. Rayla did not enhance your understanding of sarcasm THAT much I see._ Amaya snickered, but then gave him a look without humor. _The worst part is yet to come. Sarai, she said to me, change would take decades of hard work. The change you and Ezran are heading, it will take even longer. But you did well, by all accounts. It is not over, by a long shot. But it is a good start._

* * *

1.32PM, January 9th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

“They’re gone. How do you think it went?”

“Mixed.” Ez said, thoughtful, as he slumped back in a chair, leaving the crown to clatter unceremoniously from his limp fingers to the floor. Callum let himself slump too. No having to stand up straight for a while. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it deliberately in some tiny rebellion.

“They left.” Callum breathed out, relieved.

“Yeah.”

“With no declarations of war.”

“No.”

“And no-” No assassination attempts. No blood on the dance floor. “No major catastrophes.”

“No. I talked to the regents before they left. And to Aanya, she’s staying for a couple of days more. Overall… you did well. The regents think you’re weird.” Ez said, but he looked more mischievous than anything.

“I thought you said I did well?”

“You did. You _are_ weird,” Ez laughed. “You were being yourself. Or near enough as anyone can, with all the ceremony and politeness and the pressure and the accusations. That’s what I wanted. Means they don’t think you’re weak, or a pushover, or some reprobate off sticking your royal thingie in random elves, or likely to side with them against me… There’s lots of stuff you could be that’s worse.”

 _Sticking his-_ Oh no. That was… sandwiches. Oh NO! Callum backed away, the horror settling slowly, as he sat down heavily on the bed.

“SHIT!” Ez exclaimed, his eyes widening. And now he was swearing too. Wonderful. “Oh, Rayla is gonna _kill_ me!”

“WHY?! And you mean to say… you _know?_ About… sandwiches?”

Ez giggled. “About sex. Yes.” _Oh just kill me now._ “Sorry Callum. I _am_ almost 12 years old.” 11 and 5/6ths, thank you very much! Almost 12 was almost adolescent, and _no_. Just no. Not now. Him knowing about sandwiches was bad enough. “And I’m king. I need to know how the line of succession works, you know? And I hang out in the stables a lot. Horses have thingies too. And eat sandwiches. Or there would be no baby horses.”

“Great. I’m the worst brother.” He buried his head in his hands. He had let his little brother get this information from horses and strangers because he had been too scared to look at that innocent little face and talk about a perfectly normal part of life. Like he had let him find out from a stranger that his dad had died, he had been too scared to face him then too. Oh, that was a bit of a dark turn. Dumb head at work. And no Rayla to stop it.

“No! This stuff wasn’t supposed to be on _you!”_ Ez climbed into the bed to put his arms around him. “You’re my _brother._ You’re not responsible for me. Not like that.” But he was. That was the thing. The problem too, probably. The cause of at least some of their conflicts lately.

“I am though. A bit, at least. I’m your big brother, and you’re still a kid, Ez.”

“So are you.”

“I know.” For another six months. Then he would be a legal adult. _Feeling_ like an adult was probably further off. “But I’m almost five years older than you. I should be better at this. More mature.”

“But you’re not. And that’s okay. I’m sorry, that we messed with you about it. Because we did. Me _and_ Rayla. I pretended to be all innocent and ask these really leading questions, and you didn’t catch on at all, just kinda floundered and changed the subject in a really obvious way-” Yeah, that sounded about right. “And we wouldn’t have done it if we knew it was like this for you. We thought it was just you being your regular old, awkward, fuddy-duddy self. And it was funny to see how far I could take it, without you catching on. Pretty far it turned out.”

“I can be a bit dense. It _is_ okay for you to tease me about that. Rayla does. A lot.”

“I know.” Ez giggled. “Rayla told me how you two got together, and her story was kinda… subtly different than yours. She said that she flirted with you in a really obvious way without you catching on that that was an indication that she liked you. And that you just kinda stood there, gaping like a fish after she kissed you.” Oh, thanks Rayla. She could have embellished that story just a little, in the name of preserving his dignity.

“It does make me feel really weird to talk about. Especially to you, because you’re my baby brother. Well, you noticed that, I guess. But it’s important to have someone. And you didn’t, because of me.” Ez had not known their mother at all. Had lost his father much earlier than he had.

“I had Rayla.” Much better than a stranger. That was a relief, and also… yeah, he saw why she would mess with him a bit after he had put that one on her through his passivity.

“Oh, I owe her bigtime.”

“That’s what she said.” Oh no. Those jokes, that Soren inexplicably loved so much, were a whole ‘nother level of never-ever in regards to what Ez should know about. He looked at him carefully. No. He wasn’t messing with him again. He didn’t think. “Well, you were saying something about sandwiches, and you were really weird and obvious about it, that it was really something else. And I thought it was probably sex. I know what it is. No one stops the _king_ from reading the books with the half-naked people on horses on the cover. So I asked Rayla. And she confirmed it. And then she answered all the questions I had. It was nice. She was embarrassed too, you know. But she did it anyway. But then you kept being weird about it, despite how obvious I got. And then it was just funny to mess with you, especially because Rayla was in on it. Sorry. You just make it really easy, so it’s tempting. But this wasn’t really funny to you? Because of dad.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. He gave me the talk Rayla gave you. He did a really good job too. I thought it was so weird at the time, I just wanted to sink into the ground from embarrassment, but looking back… he did it as well as anyone could have. It was the distance between us - that _I_ upheld more than he did - that made it weird. I wish he was here. I miss him. I know you do, too.”

“Yeah. A lot. But there’s more, for you, than just missing him.” Ez looked at him, very serious. “I got bigger you know. And I understand more complicated things. Like that your relationship with dad was not simple and easy, like mine was. And I know more words, too. Like regret.”

“Yes. I wish he knew-” He cut off, because the words were choking him. He had pushed the father who loved him away because he had been scared and insecure and felt like he could not live up to being the kings son. “You saw the letter he wrote me. I know he loved me and saw me as his son. I knew, even without the letter, if I had let myself believe it, I just couldn’t look at those feelings because they were complicated. I wish I had told him, too. That I loved _him_. That I saw him as my dad. That it had more to do with _me_ than him, how I acted. Why I pushed him away.” Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, and though he wasn’t even looking, Ez noticed, because he squeezed him tighter, putting his head under his chin like he did when he was smaller and would crawl into his lap.

“He did know that. He did. Soren told me. The night dad died. Soren was in the chamber with him. He heard you calling for him. He wanted to go to you, because he could hear you were scared, but the elves were coming. He tried to send Soren to find you, that’s how he knew.” Oh. He heard. He _knew._ He wiped his eyes, but it seemed it was on of those crying sessions where there were just more coming in a steady flow.

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me that?” It came out a wet blubber, and too accusatory.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know you felt that way, I didn’t know you wanted to know about how dad died. You could have asked Soren yourself if you did, you know he was there. And also. You weren’t _there!_ It’s not the kind of thing you put in a letter.” No. It really wasn’t. “If I knew how you felt, I could have told you way earlier! You’re keeping things from me, because you think you need to protect me, but it’s hurting you. And me. Making distance none of us want, or at least _I_ don’t.” He had been. Ez was not wrong. And it was more important now, to not do that, because dad was not here to straighten out their misunderstandings and make them talk to each other when he could tell they needed to.

He wiped his eyes and they stayed dry this time. A deep breath with extra oxygen steadied him, he could do that almost intuitively now. “I don’t either. And you’re right. You’re bigger, and you understand more, and I should tell you more. Because you understand it.” He looked at Ez, very proud. He was strong. Much stronger than him. “And you can take it. And if have more questions about-” He swallowed. “…sex-” Okay. He was still breathing. That was good. “-or anything else, I really will try to answer them as best I can. I might be really awkward about it. I don’t think I can safely promise that I won’t be.”

“I _know_ you will be. And that’s okay. It’s like you said to me. You’re doing your best with the experiences that you have. That’s good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, despite how insanely LONG this got.
> 
> Callum got the idea for the fizz from Moonshadow kombucha/water kefir type drinks. Moonshadows elves are apparently hipster-health nuts in my world. All about the kale and probiotics :D
> 
> Up next: In the second installment of Saturday crime time bonus chapters, CSI: Xadia is on the trail, searching the wilderness for clues


	9. 4.8 Quietly Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CSI: Xadia is searching the Earthblood Wildlands for clues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! It was really great to hear you got through the politics unscathed! I tried to make it character-focused, and it seemed to work for most of you, so that was good to know :)
> 
> Second and final installation of Saturday Crime Time! Less kitschy than the first, more subtly mystery-inspired, because without Ez to ham it up the kitsch felt out of place 😉 Lots of bro-bonding though, now with Corvus as the only adult in the party. Fun times, hopefully!
> 
> This is ALSO basically a full-sized chapter. Oh how I weep for the halcyon days of <2K word chapters...

January 3rd through 9th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

They had made it across the mountains without incident, save for the yetis that were really more curious than aggressive. Their curiousity just came off as aggression to people, like Soren, who had not expected his pee break to be interrupted in quite that manner. They had crossed marshy lowlands, blissfully frozen this time of year. Made it through the dense, dark forests of Eirvale.

This morning they had entered hillier landscape, where the wind howled through the low canyons, carrying tiny, hard snowflakes with it. The quiet now was a stark contrast, but somehow not a relief.

They had passed the signs of dark magic Amaya had described and marked on their map, unchanged even after so long. A wound in the living forest, otherwise pulsing with life even in winter.

“This place is incredible,” Corvus said, wide-eyed like Callum had been. He was taking in the environment, the ancient trees, the wines, the flowers blooming despite the frost.

“You’ve been to Xadia before, though?” Rayla wondered.

“Marching along roads with the army. Not like this.” Corvus placed his hand against a tree trunk, a careful, reverent touch. “It’s very… alive. I’m starting to understand what you mean. About magic being in everything. I’m a bit jealous. It’s like there’s another dimension to the world, out of reach. And I see why what they’ve done here is so wrong. The places we passed… it was months ago, the plants should have grown over it much more than they have.”

“Yeah, it does something to the earth, saps not only the life from the land but also the things life needs to live. Did Callum tell you about the Midnight Desert? Legends say it used to be a fertile valley, home to the first civilizations of Startouch elves. Dark magic destroyed the land, so nothing grows there now. The Oasis, which was the last holdout for the elves resisting the attack, was the only place untouched by the corruption. It’s just a legend, but… there’s something to it. We saw it ourselves, Callum and I, in the Oasis. We were a bit distracted the first time we visited, so we went back-”

“You went back to relive your first kiss, didn’t you? Wow, that’s sappy.” Soren laughed. He really had a way of paying attention only to the potentially embarrassing parts of what she was saying. But she minded it less and less. She would not have minded it at all, if Corvus hadn’t been here. But Corvus _was_ here. And she was supposed to be a leader and _not_ a lovestruck teenage girl.

“It was Callum’s idea!” Rayla protested, though a smile was tugging at her lips, thinking about it. “He wanted a do-over,” she added fondly, letting the smile win out.

“Yeah, I get _that._ Ezran told me how that went down. I’m so sorry, Rayla. That one’s on me.”

“What? HOW?!”

“Didn’t teach him how to react when being kissed. I thought I had time! I didn’t think he’d get there so fast, being like… a hopeless dork and-”

“Hey! That’s _my_ hopeless dork you’re talking about.” She grinned. Yeah, couldn’t have that sitting on her, or place the blame for all the sappiness at Callum’s feet, that was really not fair. “Anyway, I agreed to it, like a squishy little softy, how’s that? _You_ try saying no to Callum’s cute whiny-puppy face. So we went back there, was the point. And we explored the flora beyond the wall. And there was a surprising amount of star primal species there, and they’re extremely rare in the rest of Xadia. So that actually lent some credence to the myth. And to the notion that Dark Magic does permanent damage to the environment. We haven’t checked it out ourselves, but there’s supposedly a hill somewhere near the ruins of Elarion, where-”

“Is flora like… a nice poetry word for sandwiches?” Soren asked. Corvus looked very confused, and thank the gods he did.

“It’s a nice poetry word for flowers, Soren.” She said firmly. He had better stop that line of questioning right there.

“Ooooh! I get it!” Soren tapped his nose, giving an exaggerated wink. “Flowers. Got it. Metaphors, right? We all know _those._ ”

“Soren, please stay on message, rather than continually probe into the private relationship of your leader and your crown prince.” Corvus said. However much she had wanted Soren to do exactly that... that chastised look on his face, she did not like at all.

She grinned reassuringly at Soren. It wasn’t so bad. They were friends, and the probing was par for the course. “Not much of a message really. But yeah, the land may not ever recover, was what not-much-of-a-message I was getting at. So it’s important to stop what they’re doing here. If they cause any kind of largescale destruction to the landscape that would be very bad. It might be permanent, for one, and secondly it might break the peace, which the Earthblood tribes only reluctantly agreed to in the first place. They’re giving the humans time to address the issue of Dark Magic, but that’s conditional upon it being contained in the human lands. _None_ of the elven factions would ever accept its continued use on the long term, and this is breaking even the short-term agreement.”

“We should try to stall them then, if we can. Spook them, maybe, into laying even more low than they already are. It’ll be weeks from the time we hopefully locate them to the time the army will get here. That’s too long to sit on our hands.” Corvus looked surprisingly determined as he spoke, and he was usually the one urging caution. But she agreed.

“It’ll be dark in a few hours. You wanna do your thing, Corvus? Your scouting thing, I mean. And Soren, you get the camp ready, this is as good a place as any.” There were really not a lot of good places. If not for the two humans with her, she would have been tempted to try to find an inn. But it was a very young peace, and they were far away from anyone who could vouch for them. “And I’ll climb some trees, get a look ahead, hopefully.”

The landscape was thickly forested, the brush too thick to see very far, and the hills too low to be much help. It was a very, very good place to lay low. The forest was too quiet for comfort, somehow. Alive, but… cautious. On edge.

* * *

“Nothing.” Corvus said, returning to the camp. “It’s quiet out there. Winter forest. Animals are hibernating. There’s really nothing interesting to say. It’s just… quiet.”

“ _Too_ quiet?” Rayla asked, half hopeful and half in jest. Books were not her favorite pastime, but she did have a fondness for those weird, human crime stories with grizzled detectives solving gruesome murders.

“No.” Corvus said dryly. “The regular kind.”

“The boring kind you mean.” Soren sighed. “Well, _all_ kinds of quiet are boring.” Yeah, so _that_ limited mindset clearly had to be challenged.

“No way that’s true.” Rayla said, very confident in this. “Quiet isn’t boring if you have suspense to keep you on your toes! Soren, poker is off tonight, because I have a new game. You sit alone in the forest in the dark and I try to sneak up on you. You’ll see how not-boring quiet can be. Runaan did that with me every Saturday night, fucking horrifying.”

“Games have stakes, or they’re boring too.” Soren grinned. “So… if I wet myself I owe you a beer? Alright?” Soren, why? If he wet himself, he really had already lost. And just _what_ was it with Soren and dares involving pee? Never mind the whiskey-cinnamon-pee cocktail, he had apparently started early, because his delightfully quirky and oversharing sister had once, during the most uncomfortable girl-talk of all time, told her he had roped poor, innocent, 6-year-old Callum into an actual pissing contest. Disguised as a drawing contest, but still. If the canvas was snow and the paint was pee and the method of transfer was a penis… it was a pissing contest.

“Sure. Seems reasonable,” she smirked, but it became a real smile when Soren pointed at her triumphantly, the sign that he had successfully spotted sarcasm.

Corvus was clearly not sold on the team-building exercise. “Rayla, if I may enquire as to the point of such a thing?”

“Expanding his horizons and heightening his appreciation for new aspects of life? I’m the kinda leader that sees to the personal development of my squad.” She grinned at him, pushing down the part of her that really did not know _what_ kind of leader she was. “You have any personal development goals you want to achieve while on this mission, Corvus?”

“Heightening my frustration threshold, in preparation for eventual parenthood. But you two are already doing a very good job of addressing that.” Wow, that was very unsubtle snark, for Corvus. She _hoped_ it meant he was loosening up and feeling more comfortable and not that they had broken him.

“Thanks Corvus!” Soren said brightly. “That’s great! I’m not even _trying_ or anything-”

“Soren.” Rayla said simply, letting him get there on his own. He would. He had improved tremendously.

“Sarcasm. Got it.”

“See! Personal development!” Rayla grinned triumphantly at Corvus. “Soren’s gotten _way_ better at sarcasm, that’s the first time in days that’s happened. My humble influence at work. You’re welcome. Surely you can agree that expanding the range of people appreciating the fine work you do in that field, is leader-powers well utilized?” Hah! He was smiling now. Just a bit, but he was. And that was progress in _her_ personal development goals for Corvus.

And it _was_ too quiet, whatever Corvus said. She felt it. And felt the need to fill it with something else. Like dumb jokes, if that’s what it took.

* * *

“Found anything, Corvus?” Rayla asked, as he came out of the brush to meet them.

“Nothing to narrow down a location. The terrain complicates things. And the weather.” Frozen ground but no snow. Barely any footprints.

“There are some settlements up ahead. You guys should probably stay low while I go there to have a chat with the locals. Don’t want a diplomatic incident now.”

“Is a diplomatic incident when you beat up kids until they tell you stuff?” Soren asked curiously.

“No, that’s aggressive negotiations.” She grinned. “A diplomatic incident is more like what happens if the kids you beat up were nobles, and they told their parents, and their parents told the king, and the king sends someone to spank you real good.”

“Oh. That’s happened to me. Well, kind of. He didn’t spank me, but King Harrow got _really_ angry this one time I pushed Callum into the cow shit. I didn’t know he was scared of cows! Or allergic to hay. Hay’s the best, who’s allergic to hay?”

“You’re real lucky I didn’t know you back then,” Rayla said lightly, but a bit of real menace made it into her voice. “Your ass would have been grass, my friend! Or hay, as it were.” It damn well would have been! Soren was her friend, but no one got to push her boyfriend into cow shit. Especially when he had been small and defenseless.

“I wish I _did_ know you back then. I wish you had been there to stop me.”

“Hey. _You_ stopped you. Late. But you did.” She clapped his shoulder. They were putting things behind them. Building a new world. “And Callum would stop you himself, if you tried that again,” she said, defiant and proud.

“I know. He pushes back now. With wind. He told me it was you that did that. That you made him feel stronger and braver. But he didn’t come with us? That doesn’t really make sense to me. That he would stay back like that.”

“Soren, it’s brave, what he’s doing _now._ He _hated_ me going off without him, that took much more courage for him than coming with us. And he’s back there now, facing all the things that made him let you push him into cow shit for ten years without fighting back. Trying to fit into a role that made him miserable. For his brother. That’s brave.” She wished she could have seen him, showing those nobles who he was, beautiful and strong and not about to let anyone push him into cow shit, metaphorical or otherwise.

“That’s… complicated. I’m not really good at things like that.” Soren looked… afraid. He _was_ afraid. Of Viren. Of his dad. Their task was maybe simpler than international politics, at least on the surface. But for Soren and her in particular, it was not simple at all.

“Rayla. If I may interrupt this tangent?” Corvus asked, hands behind his back and standing just a little too stiffly, like he did when frustration was building.

“Is a tangent one of those tiny oranges?” Soren wondered.

“No, that’s a tangerine.” Rayla said, her determination to expand Soren’s vocabulary overriding her sympathy for Corvus.

“Oh. I thought a tangerine was a kind of musical instrument?”

“Soren!” Corvus snapped, breathing just a little heavily, but composing himself. “That is a tambourine. Rayla, if I may request that you utilize your authority in the name of restraining the madness rather than enabling it?”

“Sorry. You may. I should go anyway. You two stay here. Uh… let me see, leader directives…” She grinned brightly at both of them as she left, very un-leadery mischief bubbling over. “Soren, just be yourself, you’re delightful the way you are and don’t let anyone tell you different. Corvus, I leave you with the responsibility of restraining the madness.”

* * *

“So, any good news?” Soren asked, as she came back from the Earthblood village.

“No. Mostly no.” It _was_ technically good news, insofar as their search was concerned, but… the bile in her throat could not let her say that. “The people are worried. We should not bet on the two of you being welcome there. Better to stay out here. They’ve had… disappearances. Their Entles - those sheep-like animals - some have gone missing.” She glanced at Soren, cautious. “And a 12-year-old boy. The shepherd. He went missing for a little while, and came back not right in the head. Couldn’t remember anything.” Not the only thing he couldn’t do anymore. His poor father had poured out his frustrations, his grief to her with barely any encouragement. The other villagers stayed away from him and his son. They were scared.

“Is he okay now?” Soren asked, worried. She did not answer right away, it was… complicated.

“That is _not_ good news, no.” Corvus said grimly. “But it _is_ a clue, nonetheless. We can search the area where he went missing.”

“Yes.” It felt callous, to talk about this like this, but they had to. They were trying to stop it. “If it’s them, they’re probably still here. Close. If they were moving on, why spare the boy?” She was _not_ thinking of spell components, because she already felt sick to her stomach. “But if they did not want search parties…”

“I agree.” Corvus said. “Just to rule it out, can primal magic mess with the head?”

“I think so, yes.” Moon magic could completely freak your bean, Lujanne was horrifyingly right about that. But this was different. Affecting function, not mental state. And seemingly permanent. Callum being as excited as he always was about magic knowledge made it a lot more interesting, really. She could watch that sweet googly-eyed amazement for hours. And she had. “Ocean magic might. Lots of water in the brain. But…” …a rogue ocean mage just happening to roam the countryside attacking children? Quite a stretch.

“But that does not sound as likely, seeing as we have seen no signs of ocean magic around and multiple signs of dark magic.” Corvus finished.

“No. And dark magic _can_ mess with the mind. We know that.” The monster soldiers. They were never right again. Not enough sentience to keep themselves alive. And even if they had not seen that… dark magic could do anything. That was the problem. The temptation. No situational limitations. Could imitate any other primal source. Components were all that were needed. “Soren, have you heard of dark magic doing something like that?”

“Yes.” Soren said simply, unusually succinct for him. He frowned unhappily. “Rayla? The boy. Is he okay? You didn’t answer that. And… Claudia told me once. Well, after I had a really horrible and embarrassing evening at the tavern, you know, one of those evenings where you just want to forget everything you did, especially the face-down in puke parts? And the half-naked dancing with a wheel-barrow as your partner part. That too. Well, I asked Claudia if she could just make me forget that whole thing? She said no. Like, _really_ strongly no. Because she said, she would never do that to me or anyone, because my brain was all… fiddly and twisty like tangled yarn and no-one could mess with one part of it without messing with other parts.” Soren stopped, his brow knitting in thought. “Or maybe that’s just _my_ brain? I mean, that sounds like, pretty much what my head feels like when I try to make sense of things. Uhh. Sorry. Bit of a detour there. But if my dad did that? To the boy?”

“No, Soren. It’s not just your brain that’s tangled up. All brains look like noodles. And no. He’s not okay.” She said grimly.

She did not say that it was almost certainly Claudia that had done it, and not Viren. Viren would have killed the boy and made it look like an accident, that would have been less suspicious, probably easier, and he did not have qualms about killing children. Claudia might. _Might._

* * *

“They’re close.” Corvus said. “Maybe even as close as few miles. But in this landscape that is a lot of places they could be and like you suggested, Rayla, they might be hidden by illusion magic. In which case I can’t pinpoint their location any more than I already have.” And it was not enough. It was closer than Amaya had gotten, but it was not a firm location, nor confirmation that it was actually who they were sure that it was. The council of Lux Aurea would not send their army this far if they were not sure. They _wanted_ to believe he was dead. They needed proof, not vague clues and strong feelings.

“I can.” Rayla said thoughtfully. “Maybe. With the message spell. If they’re not also hidden _from_ illusion magic. They might be, but it’s worth a try. That sun primal stone they have won’t help them do that kinda shielding, I asked Callum before we left. So they would need to use dark magic, for which their resources are more finite. And they might not expect it, because you need a connection to the recipient to send a message. I touched Viren though, when I tackled him off the Spire. And he used his magic on me, and I remember how it felt. I think I could.” And she took his life. Another connection. A grim one, but it was significant. Magic cared about intent, ambiance, connection. Moon magic especially, was connected to death. She was important to him too in that regard. It mattered. But Soren did not need to know about that particular detail, she thought. “Soren? Would Viren or Claudia use resources to shield themselves, on the off-chance that someone with a strong enough connection to them would track them with magic? Like me with Viren.” _Or Callum with Claudia._

“Uh, maybe. Maybe-minus?” Soren answered haltingly. “They’re…really sure of themselves? And not really all touchy-feely with people that aren’t family. And I don’t think my dad thinks of magic like that? All that feeling and connection and stuff?”

“Say it does work. They will know though, then? That someone is looking for them. Those birds are… flamboyant. Can you make the bird invisible to them but visible to us?” Corvus asked. Smart man. But if illusions could do that, they certainly could not when cast by _her._ That was advanced stuff if it was possible at all.

“Yep. They’ll know. You know me Corvus. I do things flamboyantly or not at all,” she smirked lightly.

A reluctant grin spread on his dark face. “That… doesn’t seem very useful for an assassin.”

“No, that’s why I’m a _former_ assassin. I only do the ‘sass’ part of assassining these days.” She had killed Viren. Avenged Avizandum, she knew that was what some elves said. That was also the argument Zubeia had used to finally convince the council of the Silvergrove to reverse her banishment. As if she did not feel sufficiently ambivalent about that _before_ she learned what had convinced them. But that was not her. Just what people said about her. Not the same thing. She was not an assassin. She had killed Viren for love, for Zym. Hood down and unarmed. “…and I never actually did any assassining, even when I was one.”

“You never-” Corvus looked surprised. Maybe rethinking the mission. Her leadership. She could not really blame him. Soren was unfailingly loyal, a friend and a peer. Corvus was… an adult. Competent. Used to _Amaya’s_ leadership. And now he was assigned to the service of a 17-year-old failed assassin, just because she had the personal connections she did to the royal family he served. And he deserved to know who he was following into danger.

She let the bravado drop. Looked at him seriously. “Only Viren. And that was not an assassination. And it also clearly didn’t stick. I made a pretty terrible assassin, all things considered.”

“You make a good leader though, so it-.”

“What?!” She snapped around to look at him, completely taken aback. What was _that_ about?!

“Oh. I… apologize. It was presumptuous of me to-”

“Corvus. Please presume away. That was not my issue. You know I don’t care what you presume to do or any kinda formal respect-thing. I was just… surprised. I thought I was doing pretty shit actually. I don’t know how to give orders properly or anything.” She watched him intently, gauging if he was condescending to her, because she was young and he thought she needed encouragement or something. But it did not seem like it. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to say ‘shit’ either.” She added wryly.

Corvus smirk became a real smile. “I did serve under Amaya,” he reminded her. “A bit of profanity was par for the course. And you’re doing very well. You’re considering all the options, utilizing the unique resources Soren and I have, keeping morale up with humor… I thought you knew that? You always seem such a co-”

“Cocky little shit?” Rayla smirked.

“Ye- NO! Well, if I may be frank, sometimes. But in general, no. Confident person.” Corvus amended.

“Oh! Callum said that!” Soren perked up, eager to contribute something. “Back when he was like ten cups of cider deep on his birthday. That you were like a delicious jellytart with a confidence crust but mushy, sweet filling of… like, kindness and goodness and stuff.”

Her cheeks burned. “Soren. You don’t think that was one of those things you were talking about earlier that would make me do worse than take away the bread?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. That _was_ one of those things I meant. Not the worst one though!” Soren said, in what was clearly meant to be a reassuring tone. It did not work very well, considering the actual words he had said. Callum had said _worse_ to Soren than comparing her to pastry and using him as a wedding décor consultant?! They were definitely having a chat about that. “We’re out of bread anyway. You could take away the cheese?” Soren suggested in resigned contrition.

“Soren, don’t punish _yourself._ I’m not taking away anything. I don’t want to be that kinda leader. I shouldn’t have threatened to take away the bread either. That was really childish and not leadery at all.”

“It would, in fact, not be inappropriate punishment to limit rations as a disciplinary action.” Corvus said, all proper decorum again. “And Soren, bringing up things told to you in confidence by your crown prince while he was-” _Three sheets to the wind?_ “-ah… of a less than sound mind, would be very much deserving of such a disciplinary action.” That was… suspicious. Corvus was not _that_ rigid, even at his most rigid.

“Corvus, I thought we just agreed I was not that proper kinda leader? So what was _that_ about? The truth, please.”

“I… hate the cheese.” Corvus admitted, in a relieved breath. “It’s been two weeks. It’s smelly. It’s growing new… growths… every day. The biodiversity of that cheese will soon surpass this forest! I can smell it on Soren’s breath right now, and it’s been hours since he ate any. Please reconsider taking away the cheese.”

* * *

Full moon. They had to wait a few days, but it was worth it. She felt the power in her. She was faster and stronger. She was imperceptible too, and that was key. Minimize risk. She was not an assassin throwing her life away at a mission. She had promised to be careful. This _was_ being careful. It was dangerous, sure, but it was as careful as they could be.

They had a plan. Maybe not ideal, but they could not let Viren continue what he was doing unimpeded. This might spook them, make them relocate further away from settlements, where they would be less likely to hurt more children or potentially provoke Earthblood elves into striking back against the human lands. At the least, it should draw him or Claudia out. They could fully confirm that it was them. Observe what they did.

She would cast the spell and follow the bird, if it succeeded. Watch. Stay hidden. No magic existed that could look through the Moonshadow full moon form. She could at the very least stay hidden, and with Soren and Corvus sufficiently far away, they should all be okay.

Corvus was safe on a hilltop miles away, watching with the small Moonshadow telescope that magnified things far away. Ethari had made that for Ez at her behest for his last birthday, because he liked to keep an eye on the birds nesting along the roofs at the castle, and he had lent it to Corvus for the trip.

She should be safe in the trees under the cover of darkness, invisible under the light of the full moon. Even mist or smoke would not be efficient, if she stayed in the branches.

Soren was the one at risk. He could be tracked, if Claudia had the right components, he had the personal connection she needed to do that. But she did not know he was here, and had no reason to think so. It would be okay. And Soren would stay back.

There was no getting around that they would know someone was looking for them. That was might be a good thing, all things considered. That they knew they could not act with impunity.

Rayla smiled grimly. If they were gonna know, they were gonna _know._ It _would_ be flamboyant.

She drew the rune, the memory in her hands, letting her trace the curves perfectly despite the roiling emotion in her stomach. Soren was _scared._ Of his _dad._

 _S_ _hit_ on Viren! Seriously!

“Nuntius Avem!”

The bright purple bird burst from her hand to take flight, its trajectory quick and straight like an arrow. 

She followed.

* * *

I had some fun with screenshot editing, and did aged up character designs for this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the last Saturday crime time! Back to just Tuesday updates now.
> 
> Up next: Trail gets hot for CSI Xadia


	10. 4.9 Hot & Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla's tracking spell finds its target and things heat up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I always really appreciate it! 
> 
> Haha, yeah I’m so nervous about this chapter, it has both Claudia and action, two of the things I feel most insecure about writing, aaah. Hope you enjoy!

8.21PM, January 9th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

The bird descended, its path above the trees descending past the treeline. Corvus would be unable to follow it now. It was up to her.

The bird flittered through the trees, now there, now not. Even with the boost of speed and agility that the full moon gave her, it was a tall order to follow it. Rayla pushed off the branches, weaving through the trees. Dropped to the ground to speed up further as soon as the bird got lower. But it was not enough, the bird was pulling ahead, it was getting harder to spot in through the thick brush, and her breath burned in her lungs now.

But she had to follow it _now_. When they received the first one, they would certainly put up a ward to prevent a second from reaching them.

And it was gone. Rayla swore, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. It returned to her, along with common sense. It had gone… abruptly. One moment there, gone the next.

She didn’t miss it in the trees. It passed the boundary of an illusion. That had to be it. They knew now. Were close. She jumped back in the trees. She was almost invisible, even on the ground, barely a flicker in the air. No magic that could see through it. But Viren had defeated invisible assassins before, and ones more skilled than her. But she was not an assassin. Not throwing her life against some mission to kill. Her mission was to watch. Stay out of sight. She could do _that_.

Rayla stayed in the trees, but moved forward, quietly. They were _close._ But she was safe up here, they had no way of seeing her, even mist would not be efficient if she stayed in the trees, and they had no lock of hair to track her this time. They didn’t know who were looking for them anyway, only that it was someone using moon magic. She had not had that skill before, they would probably _not_ think it was her.

She just had to stay hidden. Watch. They would come out to investigate, surely. Claudia was maybe calculated, but she was not a patient person.

And there she was. Like the bird but in reverse. Not-there one moment, there the next. Claudia. Her stupidly-long hair was white, almost all of it now, that threw her off for a second, but it was definitely her.

Confirmation. Location. They had it now. They could return with the cavalry. She just had to not be seen. Be patient. Wait it out.

“Rayla!” Claudia’s angry shout broke the silence of the night, and made her blood run cold. She _knew?_ It had not been a guess, there had been no doubt, no question in her voice.

It changed nothing. She was unseen, and had to stay that way. If she retreated the movement, the rustle of foliage, might give her position away, because Claudia was paying attention now, her gaze flittering around the treetops. Then she drew a rune, clutching that infernal staff Callum had warned her about. Sun primal spells at night. Not great. But she could not see her.

She still felt the shockwave of the fireball, as far off mark as it was.

She just had to stay hidden. It had been _way_ off, Claudia obviously didn’t know exactly where she was. And she was not going to burn down a whole forest when they had been so careful for so long to stay off the grid.

The roar of the second fireball was even further off, but nonetheless… SHIT! She obviously _would_ burn the whole forest down.

This was Claudia though. Callum knew her. Zany and flaky on the surface, measured and calculated underneath, he had said. Her manner and her actions at odds. This was not measured though. This was _angry._ Who reacted like this to someone dropping not-even-tangible illusion bird poop on their asshole dad? Granted, she had also killed him. That might be why, even though _that_ hadn't been personal and the bird poop definitely was.

The third fireball was closer. It was not, however, actually close.

Viren might be her savior here. Her life was certainly not worth them giving away their position and angering the Earthblood tribes. He would put a stop to it, and he was here too, almost certainly. She would very much like to confirm that he _was_ here. Let the army know for sure what they were dealing with.

Wait it out. They would retreat back behind their illusion, and she would retreat then, too.

A fireball went _past_ her, setting the forest behind her ablaze. Retreat just became a lot riskier. She would have to go down to earth to do it now. No foliage to shield her. She would be only a flicker, but with the smoke in the air?

And there was no Viren. Just more fireballs, and the blaze growing and the smoke starting to choke her.

But it was affecting Claudia too, she noted, as the girl coughed and wiped her eyes. Would she notice her retreat? Probably. It was definitely risky. She should have risked retreat _earlier,_ when there was more unburnt forest to hide her.

She felt the radiant heat of the next fireball, it was so close. Shit. Shit on toast. If she moved, they would see her, see the rustle of leaves. If she stayed, they would eventually torch the patch of forest where she was. There were no limits with the primal stone. No getting tired of channeling energy from your surroundings. No situational restrictions at all. No stopping it. She was not fast enough, even now, under the full moon, to get close enough. She wouldn’t make it.

She had to try though. Nothing else for it. She was almost invisible. It was possible. She just had to be really quiet.

Rayla dropped from the tree, the sound of her feet hitting the ground absorbed by the sound of the roaring blaze. Claudia was up ahead in the clearing. No way she could see her from there.

Claudia’s head snapped around, looking straight at her. Rayla pushed off the ground to _run._ No considering how she could see her. She could, that was what mattered. Claudia made a swift slashing motion with the staff, not bothering with fiddly runes.

The shockwave hit her, fast and precise. She fell backwards, knocked against the trunk of a tree, her head ringing. She blinked against the daze, the smoke, the fire.

Claudia was drawing a by now very familiar rune. No way to outrun the blast, it was-

“No!” Soren. Running towards them. In front of her now. The fucking brave idiot! 

The anger on Claudia’s face gave way to panic.

Her fireball exploded against the night sky.

“No.” Soren repeated. He repositioned himself to stand between them, clearly confused because _he_ still couldn’t see her, but he used Claudia line of sight to figure where she was. He moved towards Claudia.

“Get away from her, Soren!” Claudia snarled.

“No.” Soren repeated, walking closer, hands spread out. Empty. He did not have his sword with him at all. Had left it back where he was supposed to have stayed.

“Soren, I _will_ hurt you.” Claudia said, but she sounded afraid now. That did not mean she would not make good on her words. She already had.

“But I won’t hurt you. Never.” He stepped closer. “But I won’t let you hurt Rayla either. Stop this. Come with me. I asked you before, and you didn’t do it, and that was a really, really bad choice, Claudia!” His voice was cracking now. He was turned away from her, but he was crying, she could tell from his voice. “But you can still fix it. Come with me _now._ Claudia, please! Stop this!”

“No.”

Soren’s breath was shaky but his voice was soft. “I really missed you, Clauds. So much. I hope you’ve been okay, since we last saw each other. I had a kinda hard time, honestly-”

“Soren, LEAVE!”

“No.”

Claudia started to draw a rune, _not_ the familiar fireball she noted, but Soren had gotten too close. He tackled her before she could finish it.

Rayla ran towards them, entangled on the ground. Soren was far heavier and stronger, but he was clearly trying not to hurt his sister and Claudia was decidedly not returning the favor. The edge of the sun staff would have carved his face open, if Rayla had not intercepted the swing and yanked it from her grip. Claudia’s free hand gripped her ankle but she was not strong enough to hold onto that either.

Yanking herself loose, Rayla ran back towards the tree line, the staff in hand, yelling back at Soren. “Retreat Soren! Knock her out or bring her or _whatever_ , but RETREAT! Viren is-”

Viren was, as it was, not _on his way,_ he was already there. He didn’t move like he used to, but like a very old man. Slowly. But the magic he gathered into his hands did not seem weakened as the rest of him.

“Stoor esir. Ekohc eht efil.”

The forest floor was… rising. Twisting.

Rayla jumped, weaving past grasping roots, vaulting back into the trees despite the unwieldy staff. The roots were advancing upwards, Viren was guiding them towards her. He could see her too. But she was _fast_ under the full moon, and pushed off the branches faster than the roots could follow, further away.

“Rayla, RUN!” Soren yelled, giving her permission to do what she was already doing, because it was _all_ she could do. The roots had twisted around him and Claudia both, pinning them to the ground where he had been restraining her. He was caught. She was not. She was not invisible, she was not unexpected, and she could not fight two dark mages at once, even if she _had_ had those advantages. And she had to get this abomination of a staff _away_ from them. Callum had not been kidding about the power of that sun primal stone.

She ran.

* * *

Rayla’s path took her out of the forest, across a brief stretch of grassland before the jagged coastline came into view, forcing her to switch direction. Steep cliffs to the water below, no escape that way even if she _had_ been a great swimmer. They were coming. Surely. And somehow, they could see her despite invisibility. Callum had read every book he could find on magic. Remembered everything he had ever read. And he had told her, confidently, that no magic existed that could see through her full moon form.

That was not even going into _how_ they knew they were coming, and knew it was her in particular. She had never heard of any magic that could be used to do that either, and their mission was off the books. But they knew.

She ran along the coast, path leading closer back to where she had started. Good. She had to get back to Soren. Whatever Soren thought of her, Claudia would not have protected him from Viren back when he would have made him a monster, and she would not do so now. Viren would _hurt_ him and Claudia would watch.

Her fingers slipped on the warm metal of the staff. Unnatural, sick-feeling heat like sticky fevered skin. And it was terrible as a weapon, the balance was all wrong. It would be useless in a fight. Useless _to her_ that was. Well. There was _one_ thing she could do to stall them, however slight. Without stopping, she threw it over the edge of the cliff, an arc like a spear, but nosediving much quicker. She did not stop to see it hit the water either, just kept running.

If nothing else, she could outrun Claudia easily, even if it had not been the full moon and her speed and endurance had not been… 38.5% above her baseline. Damn Callum and his research corrupting her with math.

Best part of that research was the way he looked at her when she finished, the burn in her chest, the sticky sweat… like now. But she had not felt it at all when he looked at her. Callum…

Keep running. Circle around. Go back for Soren. That was what-

Claudia was standing _in front_ of her.

HOW?! She was slower but… if she knew the area, guessed her route, tracked her somehow… It was still not enough, there was no way.

She turned, but it was too late. The witch had been ready. Waiting. The life force of a massive patch of grass and bushland already gathered into her hands, dripping purplish black energy, ready to be released.

Run.

But when she pushed off the ground, the ground yielded like shifting sand to the force, no purchase, nothing firm to push back.

The purple energy spread. Under her feet, around her ankles, snaking tendrils like tree roots. Echoes of the living roots she had drained for the spell, ghosts of them. But _very_ tangible. Very strong. Spreading upwards. A twisted mirror of an earth primal spell.

One of her swords was knocked from her hand when she drew it to hack at the roots.

The other was pinned against her body along with her arm.

Claudia walked closer. Not afraid anymore but triumphant. “You forget, elf. Dark magic can simulate the powers of any primal source. Even those long forgotten.” Forgotten? Callum had complained _a lot_ about that, the forgotten primal source. That was the missing piece. The magic that should not exist, but apparently did.

“Stars?”

Claudia actually looked impressed. “Bravo. Didn’t think you’d get there so fast. Or at all, really.” Star magic. Premonitions. Future sight. Sight through illusions like her Moonshadow form. Sight through time to let her see where she would be and when. Star magic.

 _They_ had not seen that coming.

How _much_ had Claudia seen? How much did she know? Those were important things, but somehow not the things pushing to the forefront of her mind. She was very likely going to die, and that felt differently than it had when she had tackled Viren off the Spire. The despair was new. The resistance in every part of her, _very_ new. She had spent eighteen months trying to _not_ be an assassin, trying to live, and love, and love herself, at Callum’s behest, and now she was paying for it. Now she was going to die terrified of dying.

No.

No. She was not. If she was going to die she could damn well do it trying not to.

No.

No. She would not die. She would get information. Get time. Get even? No. It sounded cool, but no. She would survive, and she would get Soren. He was still alive to hurt. Her parents were dead, and past caring about revenge.

Get Soren. Get Time. Get Information.

How much had Claudia seen? Well, time to find out. Not like she could run anything but her mouth at the moment anyway.

“Well, I do have a close connection to maybe the biggest magic-dork on the continent.” Vague enough, hopefully, unless Claudia already knew, but… She watched carefully. The flicker of emotion across Claudia’s face was anger, immediate and heated. So she knew that too. “He rubbed off on me.” She added. Innuendo very much intentional. But it did not register at all. Claudia had not changed _that_ much then. Still literal-minded. Well she would just have to be more direct then.

Anger. So a way to throw her off. Stall her. Keep her talking. Claudia was _chatty._

The anger was tamped down though, as Claudia drew closer. The familiar, annoying, overly quirky manner like a layer on top. “Rayla, we haven’t even said hello, and that’s really rude! Hi Rayla!” Claudia said, the pretty smile at odds with the anger and her actions. “You’ve moved up in the world.” Claudia tightened her fist around the energy still dripping, overflowing from her hand. The roots tightened around her, like living ropes digging into her flesh. How much strength was in them? Enough to kill? Definitely enough to hurt, because it already was.

“Claudia. You haven’t.” Keep her talking. Just… keep her talking long enough for Soren or Corvus or anyone to come, or long enough for some opportunity to present itself. Let her wear herself out sustaining the spell. Get information. Get time. Survive. She would not accept death lightly. She was not an assassin.

“No, you saw to that.”

“Who me?” Rayla asked, purest fakest innocence. “I’m just a simple elven girl, who like the simple things, like moonberry surprise and-” This was compromising her privacy and his, but… had to keep her talking. Unbalance her if she could. And this might work. “-the sounds my boyfriend makes when I-”

“SHUT UP! That’s _disgusting!_ ” Oh, did it ever _work_. She could _do_ this. Dig her heels in and be super annoying? Well, she had a _lot_ of practice with that.

“Oh, you’re scandalized? You use him, throw him away and now you think you can pass judgement on what he does? Who he chooses to be with?” Fear would paralyze her. Despair would pull her down. Anger was a crutch but it would keep her upright. “And don’t tell me you have any kind of feelings for him.”

“No. It is simply disgusting. I may use magical creatures for my spells, I am not depraved enough to bring them into my bed.”

“How is that working out for you? Is that oh-so-morally-superior bed comfortable? Do you sleep soundly?” Claudia had been sleeping in a cave for one. She bet that was less comfortable than the castle she was used to. That her whole life and future was a lot less comfortable.

“I’ll soon sleep better. My father’s murderer will be gone, as will the sick influence over one of my oldest friends. And at once too, easy as pie.”

“Influence? That’s a really weird way to pronounce love.”

“Love? That’s rich. You call it love, to take someone from their home, into danger and hardship, turn them against their friends and their _species?”_

“Love comes in many flavors. I like moonberry surprise, myself.” What Callum would be to her, in Moonshadow terms. Her moonberry surprise. But he was not, he was her love.

“You _twisted_ him. He was a good person once.”

“He's a good person _now_! You don’t know him anymore, I bet. And why do you care so much? If he mattered at all to you, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You would have killed his brother!”

“I would have killed _you_ , and with far fewer regrets.”

“I know. But that doesn’t count, does it? To you? Because you don’t believe I matter. Not really. Not to him or anyone.”

“I _know_ you don’t matter.” Oh, but that was a weakness too. Knowing. Being so sure. When the world was changing like it was, knowing was a _weakness._

“Knowing is easy. But it’s fragile too. Thinking, that’s hard, but resilient to change. And change is coming. It’s here. You’re _losing._ Your knowledge or certainty or whatever… it’ll will be worth nothing when no one agrees with it! Callum told me you were smart, but really, you’re just intelligent aren’t you?”

“That’s a lot of snark for someone at my mercy. I could kill you at any moment. Or tear your tongue out. Shut that mouth for good.”

“I killed your father. It didn’t stick, but still. And you think It’ll believe that you’ll kill me over _snark?_ Nah, you’ll kill me or you won’t, might as well go down mouthing off to the best of my ability.”

Whatever terrible lessons Runaan had taught her that she was working on unlearning, there were a few that were very useful. Put the fear away. Plant your feet, metaphorically in this case, because there was no solid ground beneath. Do not falter. Do not yield. But there was something to forget too. Do not accept death. Keep her talking. Survive if she could. She had promised. And she _wanted_ to, regardless of any promise, any duty.

“You’re stalling, elf.”

“Ah, I see we’re getting to know one another. Isn’t that nice? Are you gonna invite me for girl talk? It was so delightful the first time, I especially appreciated the way you leveraged an 11-year-old girl and pretended you thought I was a person for all of 30 minutes - that must have been hard for you - all to get some information that Callum would have given you if you had asked him.” If there was something between them. If she could still leverage his feelings against him. A lot of people were responsible for the way he still sometimes felt like he wasn’t good enough, but Claudia was not an innocent here.

“He did give me that information when I asked. He lied.”

“What world do you live in? Did you ever know him at all? He didn’t _lie_. Being tragically dense is not lying.” She had known then, back at the Moon Nexus, but he had not. Had not known how his hands, their gentle touch on her hand and arm after the binding came off, that despite how much it hurt, it had travelled into her chest and made her heart flutter. “Callum is better than you think! Stronger, too.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“No? We have spent almost every moment together since you last saw either of us. He’s changed. You don’t know him. You didn’t know him then, and even less now.”

“I don’t _care._ That’s different.” But she was still talking.

“As much as I’m enjoying myself, why are you so eager to keep talking? You already said you knew I was stalling. Are your father and his bugpal not the dazzling conversationalists you had hoped for?” Watch her carefully. _Was_ the bugpal, whatever it had been, still in the picture? No one on the pinnacle in Lux Aurea had survived whatever Viren had done there, but it had made the bugpal grow, Soren had been very definite about that.

“You’d be surprised. That bug is a lot more interesting than you’ll ever be.” So it _was_ still in the picture. “But you have something I need.”

“The staff is gone. I lost it. Whoops?”

“Not the staff. Although I could tear its location from your head, you know? We have ways.”

“No, I don’t know that. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t actually, or you already would have. Brains are fiddly. You didn’t do a precision job on that poor Earthblood boy, let me tell you! I bet you didn’t stick around to see the consequences of what you did to him. You couldn’t even hit the memories in general without messing with motor skills and language.” Oh she had _not_ stuck around. And it _had_ been her, that hurt the boy, she was even more sure now. “So I somehow doubt you could target one memory in particular.”

“I don’t much care if I miss, when it comes to you.”

“But you care about what you did to the Earthblood boy? You cared enough not to kill him. Your dad couldn’t have been pleased about that.” No. He hadn’t been, she could tell. Was Claudia scared of him too? Soren had assured her she wasn’t. He couldn’t be happy with her now either, after she burned down that much forest. Whatever Claudia did to her… she had struck _that_ blow, at least. Given their location away, or at the least they would have to be even more careful now.

“That was a mistake. He should not have seen me at all.”

“No, it was _not_ a mistake, it’s a cost of what you’re doing! It won’t be the last cost either! Soren is in _danger_ , you get that, right! You didn’t want him to die, I saw! So you care at least a little. Your dad hurt him! Repeatedly! For 18 years! If you love him, then don’t stand by and watch it happen!” She could say nothing in her own defense, she was nothing but an obstacle to Claudia. But Soren was her brother. Still.

“You should think more about yourself, at this moment.”

“You’ll kill me or you won’t. I think changing your mind on whether or not I’m a person deserving of life or anything else in one conversation is a bit of a tall order, don’t you?”

“You killed my father. What you are is irrelevant.”

“Your father also killed my parents. Three of them, in fact. Did you know that?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t tell if she was lying. She _was_ good at that. “They were in his way. Now you are. It’s that simple. Your revenge failed.”

“Revenge?! I don’t give a shit about revenge! I never did! You think I pushed your father off that cliff to get _revenge_? I hurt him to stop him hurting Zym. Hurting others. Now _that’s_ simple. And he’s hurting Soren, probably right now! You left them alone together!” She would soon be unable to help him, but Claudia still could. They agreed, just _maybe,_ on _that._

“This won’t take long, I assure you.”

“So? Let’s go back to say hi! It would be _rude_ not to.” If she was captive then she was still alive. Still capable of causing trouble for them. She was _good_ at causing trouble.

“Fool me twice shame on me. No, you’re too-” Rayla could see the pain it took for Claudia to say anything complimentary about her. “- _resourceful_ to keep alive.”

“I did fool you twice,” Rayla smirked triumphantly at the anger that flashed on the witch’s face.

“Fool me three times…” Claudia said numbly, actually looking stricken. And she had just handed her another topic of distraction. Soren. Soren might save her twice in one day.

“Back to you again? Yeah, Soren likes to say that. It’s completely stupid, but he’s not. Not as stupid as you and your father made him think.”

“Don’t talk about my brother to me. He betrayed our family.”

“He talks about _you_. To me. He still loves you. He still wants to fix things, be your family again. Your father would have made him into a mindless monster, and you would have let him! And he still wants to be your brother! That’s loyalty past the point of sanity in my opinion, but it’s admirable, in a way. How can you possibly think the betrayal was his?”

“My father had a plan. Soren had a part to play but he was unwilling to make the sacrifices that I was for our family.” Sacrifices. Soren had told her, when Claudia had healed him, it had done something to her. Left a physical mark only in a strand of hair drained of pigment prematurely, but representative of some deeper corruption. Her hair was more than half white now. Sacrifices.

“You know what happened to the fire monsters he made? Their lives burned out in weeks. He did that to 10000 men and women who trusted him to lead them! He would have done it to Soren! Think about it! How he saw him! As dispensable. Worth that little. Your dad does not deserve his loyalty or yours!” A flicker. A tiny heartbreak, but wrestled back under control. Claudia had not known that, about the monster soldiers. She didn’t know everything then. And Viren had certainly known what his spell did.

“There’s a cost to building a new world. To change.” Claudia said.

“Yes there is. And it’s coming, the change. Don’t _be_ part of that cost!”

“You have _no_ idea what’s coming. No idea at all. And I want you to die knowing it. Your kind will fall. Aaravos will rise.”

The roots tightened around her left wrist so tightly and painfully it made her vision darken at the edges with a mix of real and remembered pain. Her grip failed. Her sword fell from her fingers.

Claudia picked it up, looking at it curiously before laying the cool blade against her temple. Rayla braced herself for pain. It didn’t come. Instead, Claudia grabbed her hair in her fist, and severed one braid with a swift slash.

“Cute braid.” Claudia said, watching the white strand in her hand, grinning as if of some joke only she understood. “I’m sure our sweet boy, Callum, will appreciate the memento.” Rayla’s blood ran cold. No. There was _nothing_ she could do, and- “He’ll surely come running. He does that kind of thing. Bless. And I have a friend who would very much like to meet him.”

“You don’t know him!” Rayla couldn’t help herself anymore, her anger and despair finally tumbling out despite her determination to not give the witch the satisfaction. “But he knows you! He changed and you didn’t! You can kill me, but he won’t bend to your wishes ever again!”

“Oh, I won’t kill you.” Claudia said, glancing at the cliffs’ edge. “The fall will. Or the rocks. Or the water. The cold certainly will, as a backup, in a matter of minutes I should think, this time of year.” Oh, not under the light and warmth of the full moon, Claudia was _wrong_ about that. Soren had been right. They were missing aspects of what magic was. Connection. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ll fall. Like my father did. But unlike him, no one will find you.” Callum. His nightmare. Warm wetness on her cheeks. She didn’t even care that she was crying in front of Claudia, it couldn’t end like _this_ , she couldn’t do that to him. The one thing he-

Rayla didn’t even feel the push, it was a faint sensation compared to the overwhelming relief of the roots releasing their vice grip. But she felt the pull of gravity. The dizzying impact with the water. The cold.

The waves, crashing into her.

The painful strike of rock against her head and shoulder. The world going away. Coming back, but worse, water all around. Over her, too. Sick nausea. Struggle. The reward of air, of warm moonlight. But not enough.

The warmth of the moonlight fighting the cold from below.

Losing that fight.

The cliffs, further away now.

The depths underneath her.

Pulling.

Panic.

Fear.

Scrambling for purchase that wasn’t there.

The cold pull from below.

The sky, changing color. Light now.

The warmth of the moon, leaving. But the water did not feel cold anymore.

The strength of the moon, leaving. Her limbs failing.

A breath that was not a breath at all, but salty water.

Then, no more.

* * *

Moonlight was shimmering on the pond. A single flower was still floating, lit up with purple light. Then it flickered. And sunk. The delicate glass beaker in Ethari’s hands fell from his suddenly boneless grip and shattered on the paving stones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! In hindsight, I wish I'd written part of this chapter from Claudia pov, but Claudia pov IS coming later, I promise.
> 
> If someone is worried after this chapter, please take note at the archive warnings/tags I DIDN’T use for this story. I’m conscientious about this stuff, I never want to blindside people, and if I was ever to write a story that went all Game of Thrones on a piece of children’s media I would warn accordingly 😉
> 
> Additional predictions in this chapter:  
> 5) Claudia will succeed in causing harm to a named sympathetic character. Because she has TRIED a lot, but never actually managed it, and I think she has to succeed at some point, or it’ll feel cheap. I’m pretty sure S3 will not be peak villainy for Claudia, at the very least. In fact that’s hardly a spoiler anymore after this chapter, but this leads to…  
> 6) That Claudia will be the “featured villain” of S4-5, like Viren was for S1-3 and Aaravos will DEFINITELY be for S6-7.  
> 7) Rayla will fall off another cliff (it’s basically a meme at this point), but this time she will FIGHT death, not accept it. Because there’s still some unresolved things in regard to that character quirk of hers, in general throughout the show, and in the S3 finale especially.
> 
> Up next: Ethari takes another look at the lotus pond and Callum receives some very unpleasant letters


	11. 4.10 Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethari takes a second look at the lotus pond and Callum receives some very not-fun letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I was kinda scared posting last chapter, but you were all so awesome!
> 
> I have exams coming up, so next week's chapter is a bit uncertain, because it's not a chapter I want to rush out. If I DON'T post next Tuesday, I'll post the rest of Callum's 16th birthday from the prologue that day instead, as a one-shot titled 'Sweet 16', and let you guys know that way to not expect Down to Earth.
> 
> Here's some angst, boy I hope y'all like angst :D

6.57PM, January 10th, 0AB, The Silvergrove, Xadia

Ethari took a deep breath. Looked at the mayhem he had left in his wake hours earlier. He could not bring himself to care. There was no one left to care for. But there were people who had cared for Rayla, besides him. And he would have to inform them, if they did not already know. Would have to write letters. Or one letter, at least. He walked down the stairs, steeling himself. There was no going getting the materials for the messenger arrow without going past that empty pond.

But it was not empty.

The purple light from Rayla’s flower shone, as brightly as it ever had.

Had it been a dream? Some grief-induced nightmare? He had been doing much better, he thought. It should not affect him like this so long after. He sank back against the steps of the stairway, numbly, heavily sitting down.

He blinked, deliberately. The flower was still there. And something else, too. Shards of glass glittered on the paving stones in front of the pond. He had been here. He had dropped the beaker, like he remembered. That had _not_ been a dream.

Not a dream then. He had to trust the evidence of his own eyes, had to trust his own mind and memories. And then deal with the conclusion that that lead to; that she had died, and now she was alive. He did not have an explanation for that, only gratitude.

He did not make mistakes. Or rather, he did. Important ones too. That flower was there to remind him of that. But he did not make mistakes in the forge. No. Rayla had been dead. And now she was not.

He sat for a while, while his head and heart settled, accepting this new and better reality, looking at the steady thrumming light of the flower. At the reflections the purple light cast on the pond, across the supernaturally reflective surface of the water, an illusion to shield those left behind.

It was not the comfort it was meant to be. Never had been. The empty spot where Runaan’s flower used to be had pulled at his heart as much as the sight of it extinguished against the bottom of the pond would have.

And now the impenetrable reflections were no comfort at all, but only invited doubt, as he blinked against bright reflected moonlight.

Shimmering light. Spots dancing in front of his eyes. He had to be sure. He just had to calm himself enough to draw the rune, and he would be.

It was sacrilege, but that was not important right now. He had stood in this very spot and committed another sacrilege, when had taken Rayla’s hand and temporarily broken the ghosting spell.

And he had done far worse things, for far worse reasons.

“Sine Reflectii!”

The reflections across the pond disappeared, the spell removing any appearance of reflected moonlight and lotus-light from the water’s surface. The clear water was almost invisible without it, Rayla’s lotus now seeming to float in midair, light as strong as before. He was not going mad. Rayla was alive.

But there was another light too, lower down. Not purple but turquoise. Dimmer. Flickering. Almost, but not quite touching the bottom of the pond.

Runaan.

Not dead.

Not fully.

Not… the time.

Not _now_.

That was… not… no. He did not know what it meant, or how to feel. Only that he did not have time to mull over _that_ change in reality _now._ A mix of renewed anguish and strange, desperate hope was bubbling in his stomach, barely contained, but it would have to stay there, for now, because that was a crying-for-two-days-straight cocktail if ever he had seen one. He had let his grief for Runaan hurt his living child once, and regretted it every day since. He could not do so again.

He still needed to write that letter. Same recipient, mercifully different content. Wherever she was, Rayla was… she had been _dead_ ten hours ago. Now? Probably injured. _Definitely_ in trouble. She had a real knack for that. So he would write that letter. And then he would find her.

He would have time to think about Runaan. It was a long way to the Earthblood territories.

* * *

17.04PM, January 12th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

Hi Callum!

A memento of your assassin friend, as I am sure you will appreciate. So cute, right?!

Your elf is unharmed for now, but if you or your brother make trouble for us, of the sort involving moving forward with the ban on dark magic, you will receive another memento of her, one that will not grow back as easily as hair. You would not believe the cool spells you can do with Moonshadow horn or bone! I am sure you have your Prince-Judgy-Face face right now, but really? I know once you get a break from her poison tongue, you will start thinking more clearly. Oh, I know! I will send you her tongue! You can do a great mass silencing spell with that!

And in the future, please kindly consider leaving my father’s supplies in a more accessible place than that dingy vault in Lux Aurea! It’s sooo inconvenient of a location!

Soren says hi too! I am not sending you his hair though, because you know how fussy he is about his hair, and no-one wants a grumpy Sor-Bear, right?

Thinking of you!

Claudia

“Callum, stop! Please just sit down for five minutes so we can talk about what to do.” Ez was pleading, but he barely heard it. He could not breathe. He could not think. He certainly could not _sit down,_ which everyone seemed to think was such a brilliant idea for him to do. Yes, sitting down. The logical step, when the love of your life was in the hands of a woman who had twice tried to kill her _before_ Rayla had given her cause to do so. Who viewed her as a non-person. As _spell_ _components._

He needed one thing: for his dumb head to work with him for once. He just needed enough focus to activate his mage wings, and then-

His feet were off the ground. Without the wings. He was deposited firmly in an armchair. And petty childish indignation momentarily overrode the all-consuming worry.

“Aunt Amaya, I am _16 years old!_ You can’t just-”

 _Oh no? I just did._ Amaya signed. _And will again if you do not stay put. You flying off for Xadia tonight may be what we agree on. But it will not be without a plan, without supplies, OR with you in the state you are in right now._

That was just… annoyingly sensible. Shit. His head was balking at it though. “I can’t just sit here and _talk!_ I have to go _now!”_

_That is plainly exactly what she wants. I remember Claudia. She enjoyed having you running after her like a puppy. That letter was addressed to YOU. Not Katolis or the king. Full of baiting and threats intended to get to YOU. She did not explicitly say it, because she probably does not want us to know what information she has access to, but the totality of that letter strongly suggests that she knows Rayla is more than a friend to you. You have to consider what else she knows. And what her real motivation is for sending that letter._

“What would she want with _me?”_

_Callum. You are one of three humans connected to an arcanum. The only one connected to two. You are a threat. You have not even two years of experience and you are tearing apart the fabric of space to make fizzy drinks. Have you considered that Viren and Claudia might worry what you could do with a decade’s worth?_

“But I’m not trying to challenge them like that!” He was doing plumbing and fizz, not becoming some great warrior.

 _But you could. Not now, please do not try, but you could. You CHOOSE to make fizz. You could make different choices in the future._ No. It was maybe… not _wrong._ But it was not _right_ either.

“No… I don’t think so. That’s not what they’re afraid of. They’re afraid of the fizz. The world we’re trying to make. Because it doesn’t have a place for them, for dark magic.” He was not sure of that either. If they had thought that far. Thought of what he represented and not just the threat he alone could present. Claudia was confident in her abilities and her views, always had been.

_They have made no suggestions for exchange of their hostages. Nothing but vague demands, that might well be just distraction from their real motives. They might be trying to provoke some ill-considered attack. That letter was so specifically meant for you. Claudia may know you can fly, may know that you can move much faster than an army if you go alone. She may be trying to lure YOU. Do not play into the taunt. We will move with the army as soon as we are able._

Which meant _weeks_ until they were at the Earthblood territories. Weeks of leaving Rayla in the hands of the man who had tortured and killed three of her parents and had threatened to do the same to her the last time she had been at his mercy, and a woman who would happily use her for spell components. And if she was not lying about having Soren too, he would be in the hands of his father who had been willing to turn him into a disposable fire-monster _before_ he had turned against him. Who knew what Viren would be willing to do to him _now?_

It was _completely_ unacceptable, when he could make it to the Earthblood territories in two days if he pushed hard.

And this conversation was already _too long._ They were wasting time talking, that could be spent _flying._

He got up to face Amaya. She was still taller, but not by much anymore. He could look her in the eyes. And did.

“Amaya. You can try to keep me here, but short of throwing me in the dungeon, you’ll fail!”

 _Callum. No. I would not do that. I want to TALK to you._ Her arms were tight around him now. He didn’t want it. Couldn’t stand it right now, how much she felt and smelled like his mother, the way her hand cupped the back of his head. It tore at his chest, and made him want to sag against her. Release all the tension. Take the comfort she offered. But he couldn’t, because it would be wasting time crying.

He pushed away to look at Amaya, defiant. “There’s nothing to talk about. I read the letter. Interpreted what it said. And made up my mind. I’m going.”

 _You have to consider things. Claudia could be lying. She has done plenty of that. That could be ANY Moonshadow elf’s hair. She might not have Rayla at all. Or-_ Amaya cut off, clearly deciding not to actually spell it out for him that Rayla could already be dead. It wouldn’t matter if she had. His mind had gone there within moments of reading that letter.

“It’s Rayla’s hair. I did that braid, the morning she left. I remember. I recognize the places I messed up.” His fingers had shaken, he had done a much less neat job than usual. “I recognize Ethari’s little metal hair-clasp at the end. I recognize Rayla’s hair.” He thought he would recognize Rayla’s hair even without an eidetic memory. The hue, the degree of transparency and shine, the thickness. The way it felt against his fingers- No. Definitely not going _there._ “It’s Rayla’s hair. Claudia might lie about any number of things, but she got close enough to cut her hair. Do you think Rayla would have just _let_ her do that? You think there were _two_ highly-improbable, arrow-related haircutting incidents happening to the same person in the span of a few years?! No! Claudia had her at her mercy! Do you realize what that means?! Do you realize how Claudia sees Rayla?! Fucking SPELL COMPONENTS! So I really, REALLY have to go!”

 _Callum! Would Rayla have wanted you to fly across the continent alone like you are suggesting?!_ Well no. That was, in fact, explicitly what she _didn’t_ want him to do. It didn’t matter though. Because if she could fly she would have done it, no question.

“No, but _she_ would have done it!”

 _Kid, you have GOT to stop jumping off cliffs because your girlfriend does. It is not a good look on her either! We can go to Lux Aurea, borrow a few Inferno-Tooth Tigers. Take a small Sunfire escort. I will go with you. We will not have an army, but it is better than you going alone._ One week was better than two, but it was not good enough.

He breathed deeply. He could do it. Explain it rationally. “That’s two days ride to Lux Aurea. Then a bet on one of those temperamental beast being willing to carry a human. Then another 4 or 5 days to the Earthblood territories, because Lux Aurea is in the opposite direction and those tigers wear out fast and need to eat a lot. That’s six or seven days. I can make it in two.” Nope. The rational talk was not working out at _all._ It merely brought him closer to snapping completely, because the effort of _not_ snapping caused pressure to build. “And I’m done arguing. I’ll grab some food from the kitchen real quick, but then I’m leaving!”

_You cannot make it in two days! Not responsibly, are you kidding me! You want to fight Claudia, and presumably Viren, about to keel over from exhaustion? You want to be a dead hero? Because that is how you become a dead hero!_

“I’LL FIGHT CLAUDIA BUCK NAKED IF I HAVE TO!!” Callum yelled, fists clenched at his sides.

 _You’ll have to fight ME before that happens, because I just changed my fucking mind about the dungeon!_ If signs could shout that would be shouting. Amaya did have a temper. He had just never seen it this close.

“Stop it!” Ez was moving between them. “Amaya! You don’t get to throw my brother in the dungeon! Or threaten to do it! Callum! Sit back down _now!_ You’re obviously not fighting Claudia naked!” Ez smiled at him shakily, through the heavy worry in his eyes and the fear in the line of his small body. “It’s winter. And Claudia really doesn’t like you like that, I think. Your royal thingie won’t distract her, it’s not a good tactic.”

That was just so ridiculous that a short, bitter gasp of laughter burst out, unbidden. Along with a few tears. And that just wouldn’t do at all. He was definitely not crying right now, he was _flying._ Right now.

He sat back down though, because he had scared Ezran, and that wasn’t okay. “I’m sorry, Ez. I really do have to go. You get that, right?”

“Yeah I do. I love her too, Callum. And Soren. And Corvus. We don’t even know where _he_ is in all this. But-” Ezran turned to the window, having caught the same movement Callum did, in the corner of his eye.

A shimmering white bird flew through the window as soon as Ezran opened it, landing on Callum’s knee and nuzzling the back of his hand with its beak. Clearly Ethari’s handywork. He reached for the message on its leg with shaking hands. White birds were a message of life, not death. He knew. It was not going to say that Rayla’s lotus had sunk. It was not.

Ethari’s handwriting. But rushed. Much less neat and swirly than usual.

January 10th

Dear Callum

Have you heard from Rayla? Please answer right away if you have, and you know her to be safe, I am anxious for news. If you send a message to Emyon of the Silvergrove, he will get it to me.

Did he _know?_ How? And why send a message to someone else? Something was _wrong._

White bird. It was a white bird.

The last message I received from her was sent on December 30th, informing me that they were moving on to search the south-west quadrant of the Earthblood territories. They were following the trade route from Lux Aurea, but planning on branching off when they reached the Hanara Wilds.

Approximately 9AM, on January 10th, Rayla’s lotus sank.

_What?! He couldn’t breathe, no air-_ KEEP READING! Oh.

In early evening, it was floating again. That should not be possible. I do not know how long it stayed sunk, as you can imagine, my reaction was not exactly measured. I am certain of what happened. I do not know why. But I am determined to find out, and to find Rayla-

What? His breath was still caught in his throat, he was not getting enough air, he could hear someone talking, worried, but the words were not registering.

-as I am sure you agree that this suggests she is in some sort of serious trouble.

No shit it did! What did she _do?_ What did Claudia do _to_ her? She had _died._ That was _bad._ She was alive now. That was good. Claudia was not lying that she was alive, but she was definitely lying that she was unharmed. She had _died._ That was _not_ unharmed. But how did any of this make sense? His head spun, his heart hurt, he couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat was too loud.

You will not be able to contact me directly with your crows, I will have left the Silvergrove by the time you receive this letter. I am heading first to the Earthblood town of Pantas, then south to the wilds, following the path they took.

Take care,

Ethari

Just… information. Words. Not important. He would remember them, he always did. He didn’t have to think about them. He had to _go_. Now more than ever. If she had died… he could not even think about it, but he had to. If she had _died…_ 2 days and 8 hours ago… she was likely injured or in trouble now. Probably both. He had to go _now._

He got halfway up, fighting the dizzy, faint feeling. “M-manus…” There was absolutely no response from the runes on his arms, and a sob burst from his mouth instead of the word ‘Pluma’. He slumped backwards, back in the chair hard.

Someone picked up the letter he had dropped. They were talking. Amaya’s steadying hand on his shoulder.

His vision was blurry, but the way Ez felt did not need vision. Warm weight against his chest, soft and familiar and family. Fluffy hair smelling uncannily like jellytarts, courtesy of some custom soap from Duren Ez had been raving about. The poky edges of the crown.

He sniffed and took a deep breath of jellytart-smell and blessed, actual air. The faint, sick feeling subsided a bit. He drew back to look at Ez, the big blue eyes horrified and overflowing. Reached out his hand to wipe the tears from the boy’s cheeks. Got a handkerchief from his pocket and got Ez to blow his nose. Then he wiped his own face.

“Those were really horrible letters.” Ezran said quietly, which was saying something, considering his points of comparison for horrible letters.

“Yeah they were. I’m ready to talk now.” Callum said. “Not a long talk. I’m leaving tonight. That’s _not_ up for discussion. But we should talk about what else we should do.”

* * *

He was ready. He had packed lightly and quickly. Too much weight wouldn’t do, that would slow him down. He could get more food along the way. An empty flask and the kind of field rations you could eat without cooking and a cloak, stuffed into the bag, because he couldn’t wear proper winter clothes when flying. That was it. The moon would keep him warm at night, that helped.

He had made it across Xadia before. With less. And more. He had had Rayla then.

There were footsteps on the stairs. Amaya. He did not want to talk to her though. Did not want to justify his choices more than he already had.

So he flew, but only as far as Ezran’s balcony.

Ez was already out there, despite the cold. He had been watching the sky, sun setting over the castle. As soon as he set down, Ez flung himself at him.

Callum didn’t dispel the wings, but enveloped his little brother in a feathery embrace. They were warmer anyway, and he was not staying long.

“I’m just here to say goodbye. I have to go.”

“I know,” Ezran said, but his arms stayed tight around him, and his face stayed buried in his shirt.

“Tell Amaya that I love her. And that I know she loves me, and that’s why she threatened to throw me in the dungeon. Okay?”

“Okay.” His voice was very small, and muffled against his chest. He felt the affirmation more than heard it.

“I’ll bring her back, Ez. And Soren.”

Ezran drew back to look at him. “And yourself.” He had clearly tried for a king’s command, but it came out in a scared little brother’s voice.

“And myself.”

* * *

Here's a wordcloud of every chapter title in S4, so there's little previews of future chapters, they're just not very spoilery without context :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shortish chapter, but I didn't really want to drag out the angst too much. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Up next: Soren and Claudia have a chat or ten (may NOT be next Tuesday because of exams)  
> But if you don't get the angsty reunion of Team-Morally-And-Sarcastically-Impaired, you'll get drunk Callum's terrible metaphors and love poetry instead :D


	12. 4.11 Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia and Soren have a talk... or really, a series of talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I'm so sorry for leaving you guys for two weeks with the story at the point it was at, but I'm past my exams now, so there should be no more delays.
> 
> I posted a oneshot extending the drunk-Callum prologue snippet of this story last Tuesday, since exam-time-Numpty writes silly comedy, not heavy drama. It's [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753340/chapters/59846782)
> 
> This is kind of an experimental chapter, a bit like the Soren and Rayla roadtrip earlier, but even more so, doing a segmented longitudinal narrative. Let me know if it works for you! I like experimenting, and I want to try and fit it into this story too.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

January 10th through 16th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

Claudia walked back to the section of the cave where they kept Soren.

There was nothing to do but stay low now. Her dad and Aaravos were none too pleased about that. But there was no moving out anytime soon, not unless they planned on open battle with the Earthblood settlements. The forest was swarming with them after the fire. The opening to the cave was small and masked by an illusion, so they should be safe here, but there was no moving out, not even for food or spell components.

Wait. Stay low. They had agreed. They had Soren as a bargaining chip and the elf was gone. No-one alive knew where they were.

Callum would come alone. He would try to track Soren and Rayla with the same message spell Rayla had used, minus the bird shit, because unlike his elven pet, he was not a barbarian. He would succeed in tracking Soren, and then they would have him. Alone.

Ideally, that’s how it would go.

And ideally, Soren would not spend the whole time until Callum got here all... weep-ridden.

Soren used to be fun.

He used to be family, too.

“You’re crying?! Really? Over an elf?” Claudia crossed her arms, glaring at him. It was just them. He could at least try to be less miserable company.

“Over my friend. Over my failure. That seems like a pretty good reason.” Soren said, not even making any attempt to stop blubbering.

“Your failure? You failed when you betrayed your family. That ship has sailed. And how is that elf in any way, shape or form, _your_ problem.”

“I’m a Crownguard, remember. You changed, but not me. Not that, at least.”

Claudia stalked away.

* * *

“What did you mean?” Claudia asked, returning. Not like Soren was _good_ company, but it really didn’t take a lot to top her sleeping dad and creepily dissatisfied Aaravos.

“What?” Soren asked, wiping his face.

“When you said you were a Crownguard.”

“You don’t know? Rayla is- was-” Soren choked. “Callum’s girlfriend. She would have been his betrothed, in probably not very long, because- Well, way I see it, the future step-princess in law of Katolis falls under the protection of the Crownguard.”

“She really doesn’t. Because that’s not a thing.”

“That’s what Rayla said.” Soren said. Defiant, though she wasn’t sure what about.

“And for your information, I did know that. Good for Callum. Or not, as it were.”

Soren stared at her, in wide-eyed disbelief. Then anger took over. “Not good! Not fucking _good_! He _loves_ her! And this will destroy him. What you did… didn’t just hurt the person you wanted to hurt. You have to know that. You used to care about him. I know you did.”

“And then he betrayed us. Funny how things go.”

“Claudia! You can’t really think that! We were both there! _We_ did the betraying bit, that’s like, really obvious when you think about it! They just saw it coming. And you didn’t feel this way back then, after the Moon Nexus, you were sad, not angry, I remember. Why are you like this _now?_ ”

“Time brings perspective.”

“Yeah, I know. It takes me a while, sometimes, to figure out how I feel about something. Especially after I left. Because it’s a lot harder when I don’t have dad to tell me how to feel. How did you get to that though? That they betrayed us?”

“They trusted an elf the had just met over us. Then they defended a dragon that had destroyed a town. You _remember_ the cost of _those_ actions! Then-”

“But it was okay!” Soren said, too innocent. He really _didn’t_ know the cost of those actions. She had taken the cost away from him and born it. “I made up with the dragon. She’s a pretty friendly lady, when I’m not shooting ballista bolts at her.”

“You… made up with the dragon. A raging beast that nearly killed you?”

“We _did_ nearly kill her first, to be fair. And yeah! Ez translated. We’re good now.”

“You’re _good?_ Soren, the consequences of that were not just on you.”

“I know. You changed, after. I don’t know if it was because of that, because of what you did. If it was, I wish you hadn’t done it.”

“You’d rather I’d let you stay like you were? Paralyzed?”

“I’d rather have my sister.” That came out without hesitation, and pulled at her chest.

“Soren, you would have been dependent on others for the rest of your life! Are you telling me you’d have been happy like that? Useless!?”

“That’s _dad’s_ opinion!” The defiance was back on Soren’s face, stronger now. “Didn’t use to be yours! And that’s not me! Being useless except for fighting, I mean. Just what dad said about me. I talked to Rayla about that, you know. About not being what other people say you are. Like dumb. Or a monster. Or a traitor. Other people don’t get to decide who you are, you do!”

Claudia turned away, finding her books, because she did not really care to listen to the ideas that elf had put in his head.

* * *

“Claudia?” Soren asked. Hesitant now, not aggressive. He hardly ever turned aggression on _her,_ that had been jarring.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you _here?_ With me, I mean.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s literally you or a giant bug.”

“What about dad? What happened to dad?”

“Rayla.” Claudia breathed out, painfully. “And me.” She paused. She didn’t know why she was saying this, but- “He changed. After the battle.” He didn’t have the strength he used to. The _life_ he used to.

“He changed before that. Before whatever you did, to bring him back. You know. You know, Claudia.” Soren sat for a while, thinking. “You didn’t change him _that_ much. He changed you.”

* * *

“How did you decide, Soren?” Claudia asked. “What the right side was?”

“I joined the Crownguard to protect. We weren’t doing that. We were attacking. Hurting. What dad did to those soldiers… it was wrong.” He looked so sure he was right about that. Maybe he was. He was, however, certainly wrong that it merited betraying your family. He looked at her very seriously now. “How did _you_ decide? What the right side was? That it was dad’s side?”

“It was dad’s side.”

* * *

“Claudia?”

“What, Soren?”

“The giant bug you were talking about? Was it dad’s little bugpal, that became a bigger bugpal, after he went to the sun elf place? It’s still around? And it became bigger?”

Claudia smiled just slightly at him, despite herself. “You _are_ smarter than dad thought. I always knew that.”

“I know.”

* * *

“Soren?”

“Yeah?”

“You want some pancakes?” Claudia asked. They still had some variety of food, although it was dwindling with their inability to leave the cave.

“If no one died for them, yeah.” Soren said.

“Fine. I’ll make a new batch. They won’t be fluffy at all. See how you like _that_.”

* * *

“I saw dad yesterday.” Soren said. “First time since I got here. I’ve even seen the bug-pal-elf-man, Aah-something more than him.”

“I told you. He changed. He… sleeps. A lot. Sometimes I-” Claudia wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Nowhere good, that was for sure.

“Sometimes, what?” Soren asked. He really was very good at asking about the things you didn’t want to talk about.

“Nothing. The choice was made. No future where I did not make that choice.”

“Which choice? To bring dad back? Or… to not go with me? When I asked you.”

“To bring dad back.”

* * *

“Claudia?”

“Yeah, Soren?”

“What you said? Earlier? That there was no future where you didn’t choose to bring dad back? Does that mean that there _was_ there a future where you went with me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Was it… better?”

“…yes.”

* * *

“How did you see the future, Claudia? I mean, _awesome,_ don’t get me wrong, but-”

No real reason to keep things from him. The elf would have potentially caused problems for them as a prisoner. She had, if nothing else, been annoyingly resourceful. Soren was not. He was not leaving. Not escaping. He was safe. Safe to talk to, at least. “Star magic. Aaravos has been teaching me. Well, not _actual_ star magic, since that would require an arcanum like him, but… I can do a very good dark magic impression of it. Remember charades? It’s like that! And I was _good_ at charades!”

“Yeah! I was pretty shit. But it was fun anyway.”

* * *

“You don’t have that thingie? An arcanum?” Soren asked.

“I’m human.”

“So’s Callum, and he’s got one. Well, two I guess.”

“ _What?!”_ Claudia’s eyes widened. Oh- “Two arc-”

“Oh _shit!_ I thought… with the star magic thingie… you knew.” It seemed to hit Soren, what he had actually said, and he slumped forwards, his head in his hands. “Why am I so fucking _stupid?_ ”

Claudia reached out to touch his shoulder. “Hey! You’re _not._ How where you supposed to know what star magic can and can’t do? Honestly, _I_ don’t even know that. I don’t think anyone but Aaravos does.”

“You know that thing the old Crownguard Captain used to say? With the fancy words?”

“Discretion is the better part of valor.” Claudia said, remembering. The grizzled old lady had not had an easy time impressing _that_ particular lesson on Soren, 17 years old and head full of everything _but_ discretion.

“Yeah! That! I could have done _that!”_

“That’s never really been your style,” Claudia smiled at him. It had been a long time since she had smiled for real, she realized. “Or mine.”

“Or Rayla’s. You know? She’s the same way. Not so different.” Why did he have to talk about that elf _now?_ And anyway, she knew what the elf was like.

“I know.” Claudia said.

“You _know?”_

“Yes. Remember I told you about seeing into the future. That’s how I caught the elf. When she ran. It was easy. Far too easy. Seeing into the future is hard, you only get glimpses and it’s changing all the time. In flux. But the elf was simple. Predictable. Stupid. No future where she didn’t return.”

* * *

Claudia sat down properly this time, opposite Soren. “Callum has… two arcana? I didn’t know that was possible for a human. I didn’t know _one_ was possible for a human.”

“What’s an arcana?”

“Like an arcanum. But more than one. Plural. Of the same word.”

“Sorry. Words were never really… my thing. Especially not the really weird ones that… go all weird when there’s more than one of them.”

“We can call them arcanums.” The elf had said her and her dad had made Soren feel stupid. Showed what she knew.

“Thanks. Makes a lot more sense that way.”

“So he has two arcanums. One is sky. I already knew that. That leaves four possibilities for the other, since stars is so extremely unlikely it makes sense to rule it out completely.”

“I’m really not telling you, you know. I’m not _that_ dumb. Fool me once, shame on you! Fool me twice…”

“I did fool you twice,” Claudia smiled at him rather fondly, her doof, before it hit her what she had said. She crossed her arms. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“You can’t just… see it? With the star magic stuff?” Soren asked.

“Waste of resources. He’s too far away from me to get a grip. I’ve tried. You need a way to latch onto someone. Distance matters, and…”

“And what?”

“And I don’t know him anymore.” She hated it, the thought that Rayla had been right about that. After he heard about Callum having two arcana, Aaravos had augmented her powers with his own, to let her reach Callum in Katolis, see how he reacted to the letter she had sent. It should have worked, if the personal connection was strong enough.

It had failed.

* * *

“Claudia?” Soren looked at her. He had been crying again, she could tell. “You said… that there was no future where Rayla didn’t come back? I said she was a good person. And you _saw_ what she was gonna do. All the possible things she could do, you said, except there were only one possibility. So you know that she’s good. You _saw_ it.”

“I saw an idiot. Simple and reckless. Little more than a beast.”

“What?! Really? An idiot? _Really?_ She tricked us. More than once. _Both_ of us.”

“So she was cunning, maybe. That does not contradict what else she was.”

“It doesn’t… the opposite of that? What? Another con-word? Firm! That’s it! It doesn’t _confirm_ it either!”

“Soren, that elf destroyed everything, and walked away completely unscathed.”

“No, she didn’t. I woke her up from nightmares twice on the way here. Bad ones. ‘Unscathed’ means ‘fine’, right? She’s no more fine than me or you. She’s not a monster. She’s a good person.”

“She was a good actress, that’s for sure.”

Soren snorted. “You haven’t met Human-Rayla. Trust me. She is a completely shit actress.”

“You should amend the tense you’re using.” Viren used to say that to Soren when they were young, in those exact words, when he got the tenses messed up as a child. Claudia did not like the way he flinched then. Or now. Or the way his eyes shone. Then. Or now. “Not this again. She got what she deserved, stop crying about it.”

He didn’t stop crying. But she didn’t walk away this time.

* * *

“I don’t really understand it Claudia. Why you can’t see it.” Soren was looking pensive. She supposed he rarely had this much time just sitting around to think. Thanks to her.

“See what?” Claudia asked.

“That dad is wrong. You’re so much smarter than me. You can even see the future, I mean… that’s really cool.”

“Because he is right. There’s nothing _to_ see.”

“I used to think that too. But… Clauds. The world is more complicated now, and it’s really hard sometimes, and- Well. But it makes sense. All of it. All the things that made me feel stupid or wrong. It was just dad. That was wrong. It’s like… the elves. It doesn’t really make sense to me. The way dad talked about them. And then the way they were when I met them. Like us. But with horns. People. Even the dragons. I guess they aren’t really people so much, but they’re still… sen-something, Callum calls it. When something is a not a monster or an animal.”

“Sentient. Yes. I do, in fact, realize the blindingly obvious fact that dragons and elves are sentient. That has never been the issue. Sentience does not automatically confer worth.”

* * *

“How though?” Soren asked.

“What?”

“How are elves not people? Okay, like say, an elf you _don’t_ hate, so not… Rayla…” He caught himself that time, but his eyes had darkened. “An elf you don’t hate. Right?”

“There aren’t any elves I don’t hate.”

“Lujanne? The moon lady? She’s pretty weird, but she’s nice! She made me the best bread sandwich I’ve ever tasted! And it wasn’t even bread! Awesome, right!”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was worms! Way better than bread for building muscle! And it still tasted like bread! Amazing!”

“She fed you worms and you think that’s a selling point in her favor? Not to mention she conspired with Callum and the elf to trick us. That’s really the best example of elvenkind you’ve got? You’ve answered your own question.”

Soren didn’t look deterred though. “You’ve been here for so long. Haven’t you met _any_ nice elves? Marcos’ girlfriend is really sweet, long as you don’t throw snowballs at her. She’s a Sunfire elf, and they have all this cool stuff. They also really don’t like snow. At all. Anyways, she gave Marcos these smooth rocks with the magic language on them that are always warm, so no more cold fingers when we stand guard in winter!”

“No. I have not met any nice elves, Soren. I’m human. In Xadia. What kind of life did you think I’ve led since we parted?”

“Like. Okay. Fair. I guess. Sad. But okay… no nice elves. Just elves you don’t hate then? You must have met some of _them._ ”

“No.”

“Not even the bugpal? Aara-whatever? Isn’t he an elf? A bug-elf-man at least. He’s _your_ bugpal too now, right? Taught you cool star magic and stuff?”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t hate _him_ right?”

“No, I do. Try again.”

* * *

“Are you scared of the bugpal-man, Claudia?”

“Yes. Anyone not insane would be.”

“But you told me you hated him. What if he heard that? With the star magic stuff?” Soren actually looked worried. For _her._

“He knows.”

“And he doesn’t… mind? That’s kinda weird.”

“He does not need me to like him. He needs me to need him. That’s it.”

“That’s… sad.”

“That’s life.”

* * *

“Hey, Claudia. I think I know how to explain it now.” Soren said. “The thing about dad being wrong. That things fit better now.”

“Fine. Try me.”

“Well, remember those puzzles you had when you were little, with all the pieces? When you were really little, a few pieces got mixed up, and you spent days trying to make one of the puzzles. Because you started with a wrong piece, and then… tried to fit the rest of the puzzle around it.”

“I remember. It’s because it was purple. The wrong piece. So it was my favorite.”

“It’s a… metaphor? About dad. He’s the purple piece. Or I think it’s a metaphor? It’s a metaphor right? I’m kinda new at things like that.”

“No. It is. It’s a metaphor. It’s actually… pretty good.”

* * *

“Hey, Soren.” Claudia sat down next to him. “I’m sorry about… Petra. It sounded like you really liked her.”

“You were listening?” He asked. He didn’t look mad. She supposed spying was not really anywhere near the top of the list of reasons he would have to be mad at her.

“Yeah. You’re looking for a long-term thing?” That was new. Unlike her, Soren had always been pretty active and successful in that part of life, but she could not recall anyone lasting more than a few weeks.

“Yeah. The castle is different without you. Lonely. I just… found I didn’t want things to end when the feelings started. That it was nice to know someone better, even if it was also more complicated. That’s one reason anyway. You don’t want to know the other one.”

“Probably not. You do know me. Still.”

They sat for a while, in silence.

Claudia broke it. Her better judgment had always been pretty easy to ignore. “Soren. What was the other reason?”

“Callum and Rayla. All… supportive and shit. They’re way into each other, it’s pretty annoying sometimes. But also… he was all happy and confident and stuff, it seemed nice. Even the first night, after I met up with them after… you know… I left you and dad… he straight up told me to get bent in her defense. Well he didn’t use those words, since he’s all smart, but you know. And on his 16th birthday, he told me about the wedding invitations he was imagining. He wasn’t nervous at all, or second-guessing anything, just happy. Can you imagine the Callum you knew doing those things?”

 _Wedding invitations…_ “No.” She answered simply.

It was disturbing to think about. How deep that elf’s influence ran. Disturbing that Soren seemed so convinced it had been a positive influence. That the influence had gotten to Soren, too, to the point he was still mourning her.

It did not matter. The influence, whatever it had been, was gone. Because of her. If there had ever been any chance that Callum would see her as a friend again, that was gone too. She had chosen. Revenge was sweet, but it was not free. She was not that naïve.

It still hurt. She was still human, that was to be expected. Feelings should not guide decisions, however. That’s how you ended up burning down a forest and getting trapped in some stupid cave. Feelings.

* * *

Claudia walked into the branch of the cave system that passed for a storage room, looking over the various piles of supplies.

If they were staying low, they needed all the resources they could get. They were… okay. Not great. But there was water trickling from the rocks in places, which was the most pertinent resource, so they were okay.

Rayla’s mount was spell components, it would power the illusion keeping them hidden for the foreseeable future. Soren’s was food. She had never enjoyed horse meat, but that was beside the point. Enjoyment was secondary to survival. And to basically every other part of life, it seemed. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but it had.

She had yet to properly look through the saddle bags. Her dad had, seemingly finding nothing of value except personal effects and some cheese that was pretty solidly past its expiry date. And letters, which was the reason she was looking through them now.

Her dad had claimed there was nothing revealing in those letters, except what they already knew.

But there really was nothing better to do. Her dad and Aaravos were still being grumpy-pusses about the forest fire. Soren was crying about the dead elf again.

So she would see for herself if those letters had nothing of value, she thought. She knew Callum and Ezran better than her dad did. She might see something he didn’t, if they had sent letters to Soren or the elf.

She retrieved the first letter, recognizing Ezran’s rounded handwriting.

You’re not gonna believe this! It’s AMAZING! Aanya brought a gift for me from Duren. Soap! I know, boring, right? But NO! It smells EXACTLY like jellytarts! So now my hair smells like jellytarts! And my clothes smell like jellytarts! And Bait smells like jellytarts!

She was actually smiling. It was nothing she would ever have again, so it was irrelevant, and it was not for _her,_ and yet… she was smiling, despite herself.

I can’t wait till you come back, it’s less fun without you. I thought you and Callum were sappy when you were TOGETHER, but he’s so much worse when you’re not here. He’s being nice though. No jerkface dances needed at all! And we haven’t fought at all since you left. We’re both trying harder to be good brothers. I miss my sister though. I love you!

Callum and Ezran had had a fight of some sort? She could not recall them _ever_ fighting. Only Callum being a jerk and apologizing, or Ezran playing some not-funny prank and apologizing. Not _fighting._

Sister.

She was not thinking about that one. Ezran was… it was not just Callum and Soren then, though. Under her sway. The elf was gone now, anyway. Didn’t matter what she _had_ been.

PS: I rubbed some of the miraculous soap on the back of this letter, so you can have some jellytart smell in Xadia.

She didn’t know what possessed her to sniff the letter, despite knowing full well that olfactory input was a shortcut to long-term memory recall. But she did.

* * *

_Claudia woke up to the smell of jellytarts. That’s right! She was 15 today!_

_And the sound of singing. Off key singing. Especially Callum. Yikes. His voice cracked as he sang. He was growing up. Almost 13._

_She opened her eyes, smiling brightly at her brother and the two princes. Ezran had been waving a jellytart right under her nose, clearly intending for her to wake up to his favorite smell. She drew him and the tart into her lap to hug him as she sat up_

_“Happy birthday, Claudia!” Ezran said, as he squeezed her._

_“Yeah, happy birthday, Clauds!” Soren, said, presenting his trademark scones. “Sorry. They turned out uh… ‘stodgy’, Barius said. No idea what that means. I meant to ask that, actually-”_

_“It’s like… a mix of ‘solid’ and ‘dodgy’ and… ‘stoooop, don’t eat those!’” Callum said. Claudia laughed. Callum was really funny when he wasn’t falling over himself to impress her. Well, sometimes also then, but in a different way._

_“Sorry, Soren.” She got up to hug him, her terrible-baker doof of a brother. “I’m sure you’ll do better next year!”_

_“Oh, I will!” Soren’s face was full of only slightly unwarranted confidence. “‘Stodgy’ is better than ‘fit only for the trebuchet’, right? Because that’s what Barius said about last year’s scones.”_

_“Definitely better. So you’re improving! I’m sure these won’t make you spend all night in the bathroom-” Claudia clapped his shoulder encouragingly._

_“Uh- Happy birthday, Claudia.” Callum said, walking towards her, as fidgety as ever, wiping his hands on his trousers. Poor Callum. That really just gave it away not hid it, that his palms were sweaty. His eyes flicked down to her extremely modest nightgown, then back up to her face. “I got you- uh, I mean, I made it, so- …not got it. I made you a card.” Callum shyly presented it to her. He blushed bright red when she grazed his hand to take it from him._

_She smiled at him, fondly. It made her feel so good, the way he looked at her. Knowing she would never have to marry someone she didn’t like, she would have Callum, a prince. Sweet and adoring Callum, who was clever and funny. Her dad would be hard pressed to find her a better match than a prince._

_She didn’t like him, like-him, not like he liked her. But she liked him. And a future with him would be nice, really. Callum would never talk to her like her parents would speak to each other. He would be kind to her and their children, and they would never have to move to a different country because they couldn’t stand to be around each other. Her dad said romantic love was temporary anyway, that it was better to be compatible and enduring._

_She was 15, and the future was bright._

* * *

Now she was 18, and the future looked very different. Full of potential. Power. The prospect of amazing things. But dark. Hard.

Claudia put Ezran’s letter aside. There was nothing there but memories of a life that wasn’t hers anymore.

She picked up one clearly from Callum instead, much neater and flowier script. And a drawing at the top, of himself, Ezran and Rayla, all squished into one armchair in a pile.

My love,

Ugh. It was _that_ kind of letter. She would just skim it. Might still have something useful.

I hope you’re okay. I worry you’ll forget how precious you are, without me to remind you. So here goes. You’re precious and good and amazing, and I love you so, so much. Please be good to yourself.

That was a whole lot less enjoyable to read than Ezran’s. She knew Callum. That was _sincere._ Way over the top. Barf-worthy for sure. But sincere.

I had a pretty bad nightmare last night. I couldn’t really tell Ez, so I went and hung out with Barius in the bakery, he gets up really early to get the bread started. It was nice. Warm. No substitute for you. But okay.

Well, good for Callum, getting used to an empty bed.

I accidentally used your soap this morning, and now my hair smells like moonberries, and it was really distracting all day. It somehow smells better on you though?

Ugh. Did she ever not need to know what that elf smelled like.

Never mind. Like Viren had said, there really _was_ nothing of value in those letters. Just Callum’s ineloquently worded feelings-

No reason to keep reading.

Ez wants me to rub my face against your letter, since he said he sent you a scented letter, and I should too, and he’s convinced that that would be romantic and not creepy. I’m warning you right now that if you let him stay in that belief, then you’re picking up the pieces when he reaches his teenage years and sends his armpit funk to some poor, unsuspecting-

She put the letter down, because that was somehow the worst she had read so far. All the overly sappy feelings, and _this_ was what bothered her? Why?

He was talking about the future. Years in the future. Like it was a given that Rayla would be there.

No second-guessing at all, Soren had said.

It was also not… what she had expected. Not subservient, but playful. Confident enough to tease her. Comfortable.

She supposed it was encouraging, in the grand scheme of things. That Callum was… likely to be on his way.

* * *

Claudia stepped back from the scrying bowl. No connection. Callum should have made it here by now, if the letter worked as intended, and she was sure that it would. Everything Soren and those letters had told her just made her more sure. He would come.

But the scrying had failed, and she could not keep trying. Star primal components were rare. The moment of weakness on New Years Eve had born fruit against all expectations, but it had been a mistake to spend those components. A mistake born of loneliness, that should not have worked in the first place. Sometimes she wished it hadn’t.

She could not venture into the forest blindly looking for Callum. Even disguised as an Earthblood elf, that was risky, the Earthblood life detection could not be fooled by illusions, they had run into that problem before. She felt different to them. And they were everywhere, now.

That forest fire had been another mistake. That one she was still paying for. Aaravos was… disappointed? No. That wasn’t quite right. Re-evaluating? Probably. Her dad really _was_ just disappointed. She wasn’t used to that being directed at her, Soren had been like a lighting rod for their dad’s disappointment, as far back as she could remember.

And Callum himself could present a problem. He could _fly._ He had two arcana, one of which was unknown. If she could not catch him off guard, it was inadvisable to leave the safety of their illusion to find him. He would have to come to them.

But he would. She could be patient, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Claudia is a bit of a challenge for me to write, but I tried.
> 
> Up next: Up next: Callum is on a solo mission, but meets a mate


	13. 4.12 Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum is on a solo mission, but meets a mate. Also, a look into what Amaya and Corvus are up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who read, kudos'ed and commented! I always appreciate it, especially for last chapter, which I was very unsure about.
> 
> Earthblood dude in this chapter is meant to have an Irish accent, I tried, but that's pretty hard to convey, soooo... imagine an Irish accent :D

2.49AM, January 14th, 0AB, Edge of Earthblood Wildlands, Xadia

Callum was nearing Pantas, the town Ethari had mentioned, but it was risky to walk into an Earthblood town on his own and with no papers verifying who he was or his right to be there.

Even hidden by illusions, he was betting that the ability some Earthblood elves had to sense life could not tell the difference between a Skywing or Moonshadow elf and a human with those arcana.

Still, he _would_ walk in there though. If he needed to.

But there was a campfire down below. Meaning people. Meaning someone to ask. Callum didn’t particularly want to test the toddler-aged peace this far into the Xadian wilderness, but he could land a little ways away. Disguise himself - with moon magic, not twigs and leaves this time - and approach them on foot.

The woods were dense though, and dark. And his eyes were blurry with fatigue, his arms starting to quake with the effort of keeping himself in the air. No, it was not going to be an easy landing, this.

Not easy was right, as it turned out. He woefully misjudged both timing and strength of his final wingbeat, and ended up thrust backwards, getting his tunic stuck on a branch, flipping over and plummeting down. Twigs scraped against the side of his face, a branch collided painfully with his ribs. His back hit the ground. Hard.

But at least he knew which part of him was up now, even if that part, and every other part, felt like he had flown for a full day straight and then fallen out of a tree. Oh wait.

He heard footsteps. Yeah, it figured that whoever lit the fire would have heard that spectacular feat of daring and heroism. Where was his Skywing elf illusion necklace? He dismissed the wings and patted his pockets frantically. Not there. He put his memory to use. And saw where it was: on his nightstand back in Katolis. Just amazing, the feat of planning and foresight this trip was.

Rough job it was then. Earthblood, so he wouldn’t have to change skin or eyes or hair.

He focused on the warmth of moonlight on his skin. Made contact to the balmy silver of the moon arcanum. Drew the rune Dissimula. Concentrated. Ears, point extending past his own rounded edge. Horns, not-antlers, branching upwards from his skull. Like Elf-Callum. Pinkies, not there. There, but not there. Always the hardest part.

He was done, but still on his back, when the footsteps reached him. “Oi, mate!” He was greeted cheerfully, an Earthblood boy looking down at him and waving. He looked younger than him, and really not particularly dangerous, unarmed and with a friendly grin on his face.

Wait. ‘Oi, mate’? He couldn’t believe it! Elf-Callum was totally a real thing and believable! He almost laughed at the thought. He couldn’t wait to tell Rayla and make her eat her slanderous words about the inaccuracy of Elf-Callum! And then every cheerful thought vanished instantly, because he had been careful not to think of Rayla, and now his dumb head had gone there out of habit.

The kid reached out his hand to him. Callum glanced a little nervously at his four-fingered hands. Time to put this illusion to the test then. Always a bit nerve-wracking, the tactile part, but Lujanne had assured him he was doing much better with it. He took the proffered hand, and got up.

“Trees to meet you!” Callum greeted hopefully. The kid giggled. Okay, so clearly not everything about Elf-Callum had been accurate.

“No one _says_ that anymore! Did you grow up alone in a swamp or somethin’?”

“I’m just weird, I guess. Appreciative of our linguistic history and such. Err, thanks anyway.” He said, picking a few twigs out of his hair. “I was climbing the tree, and fell.” Because 16-year-olds climbing trees in the middle of the night was a very normal occurrence.

That apparently was not what stuck out as strange to the Earthblood kid. “ _How?_ That’s a sturdy bogoak. How did you manage to fall climbin’ _that_? Did you not learn climbing in the creche, in whatever backwater swamp you grew up.” A castle, but okay. And he was getting rather annoyed with this guy.

“I’ll get out of your culturally superior face then,” Callum said sourly.

“Ach, I did it again. Me mam told me to be a good lad too, just this mornin’. You can’t help bein’ a bogger.” The kid looked genuinely apologetic, and Callum’s opinion on him softened a bit. “Look, you could use a rest, it seems? Get your bearin’s back. Some food? I’m just cookin’.”

“Err, I should actually get-”

“Nonsense. You just took a fall, take a moment would you? Common sense saves you trouble in the long run, me mam says.” The boy dragged Callum a short way through the brush. He didn’t have the energy to protest, his head was ringing, and he was starting to really feel the strain from the past day of non-stop flight.

“Look, mate. You don’t have to do that!” The kid added, as they reached his small campsite, something indeed cooking in a pot over the fire.

“Do what?”

“I know it’s good manners among Moonshadow to respect the illusions presented by others, but you’re makin’ it real bloody hard!”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

The boy snickered, and pointed at his head. “The admittedly hilarious antlers. You’re what, 16? No kid our age has branching like _that_.”

“Err, I don’t know _what_ you mean, I was just born a little different. That’s all.”

“Different, like a different species, you mean.” Callum’s breath caught, and he stiffened. “I don’t have a problem with Moonshadow elves you know.” Phew. “So you can drop the illusion. Or not. It _is_ pretty funny, and it’s been kinda a boring day.”

“I’ll keep it then. For your amusement.”

“Alright. Suit yourself. Now, sit your cute butt down - is that part of the illusion by the way? - and have some of my Logtuber stew.”

“I really have to get going. My…” Right, he was supposed to be Moonshadow. No official word for what he and Rayla were. “-moonberry crumble-” What a completely ridiculous _and_ wholly inadequate word for what Rayla was to him. “-is missing. Have you seen any other Moonshadow elves recently?”

“Yeah.” The boy said thoughtfully. Callum’s breath hitched. “Not your moonberry crumble though, unless you’re into older dudes? No judgement if you are!” The boy said hurriedly. “Takes all sorts, me mam says.”

Callum slumped a bit. Of course he was not going to be _that_ lucky. “No. My Rayla is female. And my age.”

“Your Rayla is a popular girl, is what she is.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Your man, the older Moonshadow, he was looking for her too.”

“He was dark skinned? Stocky? Purple markings?”

“And all… nice, for a Moonshadow? Yeah. Oops. Sorry. Me mam says I shouldn’t-”

“That’s him! Please! Where did he go? What did you tell him? Was he with anyone? How long since you saw him?”

“Sheesh, you're uptight and antsy. No fun at all, except for the antlers. Mate. Would you like to maybe calm the fuck down?”

“No, in fact, I would _not_ like to ‘calm the fuck down’!” Callum snapped angrily. But his body disagreed with him. The adrenaline was leaving. Various parts of him starting to hurt from the crash. The world was spinning a bit. He held onto the tree. His vision was darkening at the edges.

“Come on now.” The kid’s voice was gentle now. A sturdy arm around him, easing him down to sit against the trunk. Rough ceramic against his lips. “Drink.” He lifted shaking hands to do so. Sweet but earthy flavor, like carrots. But liquid? He drank. He really did need to calm the fuck down. Rayla would not be pleased at all that he had crashed because he had failed to pace himself. There had been a river a while back. He could have easily landed. Filled his flask. Caught a fish. Well, that would not have been easy exactly, but a controlled Fulminis could be very effective. 

He took a deep breath. Right. Calming the fuck down. He could do it. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m just really worried. Please, if you would, could you tell me about Ethari and where he went? And if the offer is still there for that stew, I would be grateful to accept it.”

* * *

2.49AM, January 14th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

Amaya threw the sword down in frustration. The training dummies here in Coltein hold were subpar in the extreme. She would have to file a notice about that. And the courtyard was suspicuously bereft of any living people she could have asked to spar with.

The guards were a way away, looking busy in the way people did when they were taking great care to look busy. They were clearly steering clear of her. She could not really blame them, she had to admit, as she surveyed the mess of splinters that used to be the training dummy.

How could things have gone _that_ much to shit, _that_ fast?

Janai was on her way, surely. She had asked her straight up, to come back. Her letter would reach her before she made it to Lux Aurea. She had felt a bit guilty for asking, considering Janai was responsible for a country. But they had an agreement. They were adults. They _asked_.

None of that Callum and Rayla shit of running after each other at some _suggestion_ of need from the other.

They were adults and would get in each other’s business only upon an expressed request.

But those letters had been more than a _suggestion_ of need.

It wasn’t like she did not _understand_ why Callum had done as he had. Run off without care for the danger he was facing or the family he left behind, able to do nothing but worry.

Rayla… she was a good kid. Good for Callum. She didn’t ask him to fly across the continent to save her, in fact, Amaya knew she had explicitly expressed the opposite. She didn’t _intend_ for this to happen, for him do this, but- But she was furious.

At Claudia, that manipulative, sadistic little shit stain.

At Rayla, too reckless, too careless with her own life.

At Callum, too full of stupid, stubborn, desperate love to hear sense.

And she was worried. Much, _much_ more than she was angry.

Amaya sank onto the stone bench facing the courtyard, looking out into the dim.

It was night. She should be in bed. Ezran should _definitely_ be in bed. But Ezran was standing in front of her, barefoot and in his pajamas despite the winter chill, Bait hugged to his chest in a way she could tell was past the point of comfort for the glowtoad.

 _Amaya?_ Ezran signed. He looked hesitant, quite unusual for him. Like he was considering whether to open the can of emotion-worms that made his chin wobble like it did right now. He made his choice to keep it shut, for now. She would respect his choice. Not forever. But for now. _Will you tell me a goodnight story?_ He asked.

She lifted the boy off the ground. 11 was too old to be carried to bed, and he was freshly clean from the bath Opeli insisted he take every night, and she was sweaty and filthy from the training session. But warm, smelly family was better than cold and lonely ground. And he put his fluffy head against her shoulder like he used to when he was much smaller.

They went upstairs, and sitting on the side of his bed, she told him a story of the smallest Banther cub who went on a long journey to find a magical milkfruit tree. He was probably too old for that story too, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Amaya quietly left the room. The world outside it was both easier and harder.

But Janai would arrive sometime in the next few days. And Janai did not run from passion, or from anger. Or from grief. They would decide what to do.

Together.

* * *

8.37AM, January 14th, 0AB, Edge of Earthblood Wildlands, Xadia

Callum awoke to cold, seeping through the cloak and into him. And to bright light through his eyelids. Sunshine. He sat up abruptly. And immediately regretted it. Everything hurt. Even the sunlight hurt his tired eyes.

He held up a hand to shield his face. Five fingers. Oh. Shit.

He looked frantically around. Where was his overly chatty new friend? Terry. Aged 14. Not a threat. But that did not mean he didn’t have friends or family that _were_ threats. Had he gone to fetch whatever the elf equivalent of torches and pitchforks were?

Yeah, he needed to leave. Right now. For many reasons, including that he just got his first clue, and then conked out immediately afterwards. Some moonberry surprise he was.

“Good mornin’, my recently smooth skulled friend!” The chirpy voice of Terry the incredibly annoying Earthblood elf. Too late.

“Good morning, Terry. So you noticed, I gather.”

“Kinda hard to miss. That butt really _wasn’t_ an illusion.”

Callum groaned, flopping back on the grass. Well, good news, he supposed, that elf-equivalent of torches and pitchforks were seemingly not on their way. Still. “Could you please focus on the important issue here? And not my butt. Please.” Had he been that young when he was 14?

“Don’t be so uptight, smooth-skull. You never just sit there and take in all the fine behinds of the world? You clearly don’t know how to live. Poor moonberry crumble, no one to appreciate her no doubt delightful hind quarters.” Well, that was just patently wrong. Callum knew for a fact that Rayla’s hind quarters were plenty apprecia-

Never mind. Besides the point, that. He had this butt-obsessed weirdo to handle.

“Terry.” Callum said, exasperated. “What would your… mam say to you right now?”

“That it’s rude to comment on strangers’ butts.” Terry said without hesitation and rather sheepishly. “Sorry. You’re right. I brought breakfast! And I had me mam pack you some food for the road. I assume you’ll be off? Moonberry crumble to rescue and all.”

That was… very nice of him. “Nothing about me being human? You’re not… scared?”

“Nah, I think I could take you. You’re not even armed, and it’s daytime, so your moon magic won’t work.”

Callum wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he could evidently not even intimidate a lone 14-year-old. “Nothing _else_ about me being human?” He asked, rather baffled. Like the fact that he could do magic of _any_ kind? Or just regular old prejudice?

“Nah. War’s over, right?”

“Right. I helped end it. I should know.” And yet he hadn’t dared to believe it, when it came down to it, had he?

“Hold up a minute? You’re _that_ smooth-skull?” Terry was staring at him open mouthed now. “Hold UP! Moonberry crumble is _that_ Rayla?”

“Err. To the first question, maybe? And to the second, definitely.”

“Wow, yeah, you really do need to go off and rescue her! Go! What are you waitin’ for! Chop chop! Get on your dragon and go!”

“What?!” Callum gestured at him, exasperated. “ _Now_ you’re seeing the urgency? And what dragon? Do you see any dragons around? Which smoo- er human do you think I am?”

“The badass dragon rider. Duh.”

“Ah no, that would be my little brother.”

“Neat. _And_ you made it with the girl that avenged Avizandum! Nice!” Avenged Avizandum? Was that what the elves thought of that day? What had happened? Rayla wouldn’t be thrilled to hear that.

“She didn’t avenge Avizandum. She saved Azymondias. Take _that_ information back to your village. Please.”

“Mate. You have like, connections.” Terry said, impressed. He did. Two of them. Moon and sky. Not enough for what was coming. Neither useful in tracking down Rayla. Not with the distance being what it was. Not without being able to tie the message spell to an object. Ethari could help with that. If he could find Ethari.

“Terry. Do Earthblood elves have a way of tracking people? Or of finding their way?” He pulled Rayla’s braid from his pocket. “I have this, it’s Rayla’s, if that helps. Or any way to find Ethari would also be good.”

“I’m really sorry, mate. No.” Terry looked thoughtful. “Well, maybe?”

“I’ll take ‘maybe’, at this point.”

“Alright.” Terry rooted around in his bag, handing him some small, probably metal, object with a lid, its surface rough like unglazed stoneware. It looked a bit like a clock when he opened it, but with only one hand. “You can have this then. It’s a wayfinder. I don’t really need it anymore, it’s more like a trainin’ thing for kids. To help them learn to feel the lines in the earth. To find their way.”

“Lines in the earth? Can you show them to me?” That _would_ be helpful. He didn’t know this area, and hadn’t exactly planned ahead to acquire a detailed local map before he left, a map where all of Xadia took up one page was all he had, and that was not really useful, past making it to the general vicinity of the Wildlands.

“Uh no. Invisible lines. Do smooth-skulls not have metaphors? Anyway, maybe? I can try.” Terry reached out to snatch his scarf.

“Hey!” Callum complained.

“I’m _showin’_ you. You asked.” Terry tied the scarf over his eyes, and spread his arms out. “Now spin me round.” Really? He really hoped Terry wasn’t just having him on. He spun him anyway. “My home is that way.” He pointed. “And _that_ way is the tree you fell out of. See? Invisible lines. We learn to feel them, so no need for the gadget.” His curious face emerged from the scarf again. “How do smooth-skulls find their way?”

“Maps.”

“Oh, elves have those too, I was kinda hopin’ for some _not_ borin’ thing.”

“Sorry. We really aren’t that different. That’s literally the point.” Callum sighed. “Speaking of the point. The thingie? It can help me find Ethari?”

“It can help you find the place he was heading, the burned forest I was telling you about. Because the burned forest is _that_ way.” Terry pointed. “And the wayfinder will keep pointing that way, once set.”

He had a direction now, at least. A trajectory. Not to Rayla, most likely. But to somewhere. Someone.

Something.

* * *

8.37AM, January 14th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

Hi Corvus!

Corvus did not know what possessed him to look at King Ezran’s letter. He somehow longed for a second opinion. Another voice. Even if it was an 11-year-old boy. And via letter. And telling him he had failed in every way imaginable.

I hope you’re having fun in Xadia,

He was not.

-and taking good care of Soren and Rayla.

He was not.

I know Rayla seems tough, but she’s really not very good at taking care of herself. So I know this is a lot to ask, but look out for her, okay?

She was not. And he had not.

And Soren is really sad about Claudia, even when he pretends he’s okay. So look out for him too.

He had not.

Corvus put the letter back in his pack. It was an old letter. There was nothing in there he did not already know. And he was used to his own company, to solitude.

But he was not used to _this._

Corvus sank down on a rock, frustrated. The mounts should have been here. There were footsteps though. Soren’s. Rayla’s. And someone else’s. Smallish, probably female. Shoes of Katolis make, from the shape of the heel. But worn.

Claudia, no doubt.

She had been here. She probably had their mounts. She certainly had Soren. She had… had Rayla, too.

He had picked up Rayla’s tracks somewhere outside the burned forest. Followed them. Until they stopped.

The mounts were gone.

His companions were gone.

He had listened in on some of the Earthblood elves, even managed to swipe some correspondence. They had found no corpses. There seemed to be no real consensus on what had happened among the elves, they were baffled, but very much also alert and suspicious, about a forest fire in the dead of winter.

He could not risk making contact with the Earthblood elves, that fire had not exactly endeared them to mysterious strangers, much less human strangers.

The sanction from Queen Janai granting them status and protection, had been in Rayla’s saddlebags.

The tokens that could have let him send a message to The Silvergrove from one of the Moonshadow settlements to be forwarded magically to Katolis… also in the saddlebags.

It would take him weeks to get to the Sunfire territories on foot, from where he could get a message to Katolis. So he could get started on that. Or he could stay. Watch. Wait. Someone might hear of what went down. That forest fire had not been subtle, and there were people who knew the area they were searching. _Some_ news of what happened would probably make it to Katolis before he did.

His companions were _gone._

He had encouraged the plan that had _gotten_ them gone. He was supposed to be an unbiased and sensible third party. Pretty much everyone agreed on that.

Rayla had even explicitly left him with the responsibility of restraining the madness. Even if she had not, he had known well before that, that that responsibility was his. And he had not done that, he had encouraged it.

The forest fire had wiped out a lot of tracks, and the Earthblood elves were swarming the burnt area anyway. But he had picked up Rayla’s tracks, leading away from the blaze. Followed her footsteps. Until they stopped.

She had been 17 years old, and now she was dead.

King Ezran was 11, and he would have to tell him the girl he had loved as a sister was dead. He had told him his father was dead, and now…

Corvus leant back against the trunk of one of the massive trees. His companions were gone. Their incessant, endlessly annoying conversational tangents… gone. He had _wished_ for peace, so many times during the trip.

Now?

The forest was too quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I felt like this story really needed some levity and a chapter that was just slightly less intense than the last couple. So sorry if it was a bit boring, it was necessary, to me.
> 
> Haha, yeah this is one of the sillier predictions. 8) Earthblood Terry, which was some sort of vague teaser, will actually appear and be REALLY annoying. Hope you enjoyed my first OC that wasn’t a regent, lol. 
> 
> I keep forgetting to mention that I have [a tumblr](https://numptypylon.tumblr.com/) where I post fanart and stuff. Stuff being mostly shitposty screen edits. But if you want to chat or are dying to see Viren in a pink bunny onesie, come right over :)
> 
> I'm participating in a Rayllum birthday event throughout July, so if you want to read my sappy drabbles à la Downtime in Wartime, keep an eye out for that, starting tomorrow, titled 'Instant'. A lot of them will tie into this continuity, and be like supplementary material :)
> 
> Up next: Ezran is torn between responsibility and the people he loves, and gets a visit from an old friend


	14. 4.13 Runaways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran is torn between the responsibility of being king, and the people he loves, and gets a visit from an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! I appreciate all of you, especially as things are coming to a head for Book 4: Down to Earth in not too long.
> 
> If you want some supplementary material to this story, and/or more Rayllum, I'm posting oneshots every other day throughout July for the Rayllum Birthday Bash event.  
> They are all in this continuity (well, except au prompt, obviously), and a good few expand on things mentioned in this story. So far, prompt 1 is the Oasis do-over referenced in 4.8 and 2 is the very bad, no-good, trauma-fueled argument referenced in 4.3. Story is titled [Instant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011817/chapters/60867190)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy today's chapter!

4.32AM, January 14th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

_Ez!_

It was a familiar voice in his head, but... older. Like an old friend that had changed, but was still familiar somehow.

_Wake up, Ez!_

Ezran did. He was in his bed… or not _his,_ exactly, but the foreign bed in Coltein Hold. So it had been a dream. Reality was way worse. Reality was his brother off making dumb and dangerous choices and his sister being hurt or in danger and his country needing him, and also needing him to be a lot less upset than he actually was.

_Ez!_

The voice again. And he was awake now, so it was real, too, not a dream, and besides, he recognized it now… Zym! Zym was _here?!_ In Katolis? How and why was Zym close enough to talk to him?

_I’m right outside, Ez!_

Ezran got out of bed, confused.

“Ezzzz!”

That was _real_ speech and not in his head. Taps against his window were real too. For one very weird moment he thought it was Owl-Callum. But that didn’t make any sense, and just made his chest hurt, because Callum flew off, from the balcony right outside that very window in a really horrible way yesterday.

But when he looked out the window, the heavy and awful feeling in his chest lightened, because despite all the sense that had told him that nothing this spectacular, nothing this much like a fairytale could be real… it _was_ Zym.

As soon as he opened the double doors to the balcony, the not so little dragon bounded through. Still moving a bit like a baby, just a much bigger one. Bigger than him now. Less clumsy. Still Zym.

Ezran threw his arms around his friend. “Zym! I’m _so_ glad to see you! You got so big! And you can speak! Like, of course you always could to me, but… Why are you here? _How_ are you here?”

_How? I flew! Why? You!_

“That’s almost a poem!” Ezran laughed for the first time in days. “I’m really glad you’re here. Does your mom know though?”

_I ran away from home. Kids do that! Right?_

Oh. Zubeia would be really worried. He really needed to write her. But for now, he turned to the friend he had not seen since he had fit in his backpack. And Zym wouldn’t fit in _anyone’s_ backpack anymore. “Yeah, I mean human kids do. I suppose dragon kids do too. Well, you prove that they do.” His brows furrowed, as he reached out to cup Zym’s cheeks. Was there something wrong at the Storm Spire too? Was that why Zym had run away? “Why did you run away?”

But Zym just happily booped his nose with his snout. _I told you! You! Your letter said you would be closer to me. So I flew. Hoped to get close enough to feel you. And I did. You were sad. So I flew the rest of the way._ Zym put his head on top of Ezran’s. It was calming. He thought he understood the baby chickens now, why they liked comforting weight of their mother on top of them. _Why were you sad?_ Zym asked, with a worried little yip.

“Rayla is in big, big trouble somewhere in Xadia. She- she d-died!” He could barely say it. She was alive now, though, she had to be. “But she’s alive again, but… but she’s in big, _big_ trouble, and Callum went to find her all alone, and he was so scared and I think he’ll soon be in trouble too. And I’m king here, and I don’t know-” His throat felt choked. He buried his face in Zym’s mane. “I don’ know… what- to do!” He wailed, sobs he had kept down for days bursting out. He couldn’t stop now that he started, all the feelings just tumbled out uncontrollably. His hands twisted in Zym’s mane.

_Don’t cry, Ez! I know what to do!_

He sniffed. “You do?” He drew back to regard Zym, the eager and certain look on his face.

_Yes! We go find them! We fly, because I’m bigger now and you’re almost the same size. Only fair! You carried me to Xadia and now I carry you! Callum made me less scared, and now I do that for him! Rayla saved me and now we save her! Only fair!_

* * *

“Psst! Aanya!” Ezran dropped from the air duct, quietly onto the floor next to her bed. Rayla had been teaching him useful things, like picking locks and moving all quiet-like.

“You’re in my bedroom?” Aanya mumbled muzzily, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She looked weird with bedhead. That was just wrong, like the too-neat hair on Callum.

“Yeah, but it’s not weird!” She gave him a _look_ that was not at all diminished by the bedhead and the frilly nightgown. “Well. Okay.” He admitted. “It’s pretty weird. But not that I’m in your bedroom! If you had a dragon in _your_ bedroom, you’d come get me too! Right? I hope you would, it’s what friends do.”

“Ez. Do you mean to say that there is a _dragon_ in your bedroom?” Aanya asked, sitting up now, her eyes widening.

“Yeah! I should have led with that, huh?”

“You really should have, yes.” Aanya sounded uncharacteristically lost for words, but he supposed it was a lot to take in, within a minute of waking.

“It’s not just any dragon. It’s Zym! And he’s bigger! You want to meet him?”

“Yes. Very much.” She said, still stunned and taking in the situation. Then she took in _him_ and his expression and her demeanor changed to familiar shrewd analysis. “But that was not why you woke me up.”

“No. I need advice.” He sat down next to her on the bed, plonking down hard. “I don’t know what to do. Zym came all the way here, he wants me to come with him, and I know I should stay here, I should sit on my hands and wait.” He stared down at his hands, twisting in the bedsheets. “My duty is here, everyone’s been saying that, and I get it, I do, but-”

“Ez.” Aanya turned his head around to look at her, meeting his gaze with the kind of… constructive compassion… he had come to know quite well. “What do _you_ want to do?”

“I want to go with Zym.” Ezran said, without hesitation. There was really no ambivalence there. “Find Callum, because he’s doing something stupid right now, I know it. Find Rayla, who’s probably hurt but definitely in trouble. But I can’t. I’m the king. Stuck. Callum told me something our dad told him, before he died. That a child was freer than a king. It’s true. If I was just Ez, I wouldn’t be here, I-” He cut off, because his throat felt tight again, and he had already cried plenty.

“You should go.” Aanya said. “Now. Before daybreak, before you are King Ezran again and stuck. You can be Ez with me, remember? We agreed.”

“Really?” He had expected her to… he didn’t actually know. Talk sense into him. Not give him permission to be irresponsible.

But Aanya’s face held no doubt at all. “Yes! We are more than just duty and a piece of metal!” She sounded angry, but not with him. She took a deep breath and composed herself though, she was much better at that than him. “You have done your duty and done it well. The gathering is over. It went well. There are no crises to handle in the immediate future. So duty can go fuck itself for a while.” She was serious, if she was swearing. “How do you want to do it? I would not suggest abdicating again, nor letting it be known that you are doing something so unorthodox and dangerous as fly off on a dragon. The other delegates have left now, but they could hear of it, and might take offense or see opportunity.”

“What would you suggest?” He asked, still at bit stunned that she was encouraging this. Helping him accomplish it, even.

Aanya grinned. There was a _look_ on her face he had gotten to know. Like Callum’s dumb-idea-face, but in Aanya’s case, those ideas were usually really, really clever. “Regents take time off all the time you know. Especially in peacetime and right after a demanding gathering like this. Go to their hunting lodges, their island retreats, sailing… Don’t you have those?”

“Yes? Like the Bantherlodge?”

“Yes, like that. But I was thinking somewhere further away from the people who know you well. I’m planning a break myself, to a remote retreat in the southern hills of Duren. It’s beautiful there, you should join me. Call it a cultural exchange. And we have important regent things to discuss. And you are young, and it is an accepted fact that young people need the educational experiences and insights that international travel offers. You will learn of the culture, geography and history of our proud nations, as well as partake in the finest cuisine Duren has to offer. Do you think your friend Ellis could be convinced to join us? The food is exquisite and there is an extensive library and an art collection. The previous owner of the house had… eclectic tastes. I really do think Ellis would enjoy the art installations and the selection of horror stories from all five kingdoms.”

“I’m sure Ellis would like that, but-”

“Splendid! She is such a delight, and-”

At every other point in time, that _would_ have sounded like a really amazing way to spend a few weeks, but _now?_ “Uh. I thought you said-”

“Ez. Of course you should not do that. You should _say_ that’s what you are doing.” Aanya said, taking pity on him apparently. Whoa. She just pulled that story out of thin air? She really was a bit scary sometimes. It was definitely fortunate she was using those powers for good. “Ellis can make sure you are seen with us there occasionally.” Oh. She really _had_ thought of everything. “So. What do you think?”

“I think that’s… a really good lie for how long you had to work on it.”

“Thank you.” She smirked, pleased with herself. “So you will do it? Like I suggested. I know you hate lying.”

“I do. But not as much as I hate waiting around for bad news, knowing nothing, making choices that are not mine.” He sat up straight. Decided. “So I’ll do it. Is it okay? For you, I mean?”

“Of course!” Aanya said, smiling quite genuinely. “Ellis really _is_ very sweet and a lot of fun. It is hardly a chore to spend a few weeks in the country with her. I don’t get to meet many people my age.”

“Okay. I hope you’ll have fun. I-” This really wasn’t _important_ or anything, so why was his face all weird and warm about it? “Uh. If Ellis… uh. Ellis _is_ really nice. I totally understand if- uh. But…”

“Ezran. I will not kiss Ellis. We are friends. And that would be wrong.” Aanya said, very firmly.

That was definitely _not_ what he was going to ask her! No way! Girls were just really weird sometimes. “Okay. It not like… you can if you both want to!”

Oh he could tell Aanya _really_ wanted to tease him. She didn’t though. Just looked at him, worried and then put her arms around him. “But I will not. And I will keep your secret. Be careful. Even with a dragon, it is dangerous, what you plan to do. I still think you should do it. And I think my plan will let you.”

“Okay. I’ll do it. Lie. But not to Aunt Amaya. I can’t do that."

* * *

Ezran packed first. He had been upset with Callum for not discussing things properly, not listening, not… not deciding together. But he got it now.

He had made his choice.

And he was not asking for permission either.

Callum had been careless when he left. He had gone to _Xadia_ , and managed to leave his Skywing illusion necklace behind, which would probably have been a good thing to bring. Ezran packed that. His cube, too. He wasn’t sure if Callum meant to leave that, but he probably didn’t, because he rarely left it anywhere.

He was all too aware of what Amaya would say, that this was a bad choice. He had made a bad choice before, when he abdicated, but he was not leaving the throne to whoever was most schemey and ambitious, which had, unsurprisingly, in hindsight, turned out to be Viren. He was leaving the throne with Aunt Amaya. The best defender Katolis could ask for.

It really might… be a bad choice. But it was _his_ choice. No one else’s. The first real one he had made in a long time, it felt like. Certainly the first choice that Ez, and not King Ezran of Katolis, had made in a long time.

Callum had left suddenly. He had fled hearing Aunt Amaya come up the stairs, she had been very angry about that. And upset, under the anger. At herself too, he thought.

Ezran took a deep breath, and opened Amaya’s door. Unlocked. That was for him, he knew. For if he had a nightmare or something, since she couldn’t hear knocks on the door.

She had probably not expected him like this, fully dressed and very awake.

Amaya had been awake too though, and turned to him, concerned, when he entered. _Ezran. Are you doing okay? You ordered a very early and very unusual breakfast. You know I approve of a hearty meal in the morning, but two dozen eggs? I understand needing to take your mind off the things that are happening, but doing some prank, while Callum-_

“No! Of course not! I wouldn’t _do_ that, Aunt Amaya!” She really thought he would do that? He hadn’t even thought of _anything_ fun since those letters arrived.

_No. Sorry. I know you would not. I am worried about Callum._

“You’re worried about Rayla too, right? She’s the one who’s really in trouble.”

_Of course I am. But Rayla is not my responsibility. Callum and you, you ARE. Rayla can take care of herself._

“No!” Ezran said, very definite on this. He had said so to Corvus too, but really? Amaya didn’t _know_ this? “She’s really bad at that!” It made him really nervous too sometimes, how bad she was at that. He never forgot what she had said to him, back on the cursed Caldera, that she messed everything up. The way she had talked about losing her hand, like it didn’t matter, like her pain didn’t matter, like _she_ didn’t matter. “She’s so _good,_ but she thinks she’s not. Not even just like Callum, he just thinks he not good at things, or he used to think that, at least. Rayla thinks _she’s_ not good. It’s really hard to explain. But it makes her… really terrible at taking care of herself. And I have to find her. Because she needs help. She would do it for me. She has. Multiple times.”

_You have a point. I am sorry, Ezran. I hope they are both okay. You know Janai will probably arrive tomorrow? We will make a plan, then. And that plan WILL entail going to Xadia to get them. Both of them. Okay?_

“No. It’ll take you too long to get there. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The eggs. That’s why I ordered the eggs.”

 _I think you missed the explanation part of the explanation, Ezran._ Amaya could really convey ‘dry’ amazingly well without the aid of intonation.

Ezran bit his lip. This might be a bit of a bomb to drop on her. And it was not even the last bomb he was gonna drop on her tonight. Just the weirdest. “Um. Aunt Amaya. Don’t freak out okay. There’s a dragon in my room. The eggs are for him.”

_What?! HOW?_

“It’s a little one. Well, he’s gotten bigger. A LOT bigger, actually, but… still little, as dragons in general are concerned. So it’s okay! He fit through the door. We didn’t break anything. Well. One of the chairs got a bit scratched, but-”

_Ezran! Please return to the more pertinent subject at hand here! There is a DRAGON in your room?_

“Yeah. Zym.”

_The Dragon Prince is in your room?_

“Yes. But don’t worry! Bait is keeping an eye on him.”

_That is not-_

“And also, he won’t be there that long! We’re flying off to find Callum and Rayla!” Second and final bomb. Might as well get it over with.

_Ezran, you cannot be serious. You are going to leave with a baby dragon?_

“The Dragon Prince Azymondias, yes. He ran away from home to find me. And now _I’m_ running away from home to find my brother and Rayla.”

_You ARE serious._

“Yes. You saw the way Callum left. You think he’s going to be making sensible decisions?”

She was very… tense. A bit too collected. _Very_ upset, underneath. _Ezran. Please sit. With me._

“You… you understand, right?” Ezran said, hopefully, sitting down next to her. She was taking to him. Not freaking out. Not making completely baseless threats of throwing him in the dungeon. That was good.

_I understand. I hate the idea. Hate it to my core. But I made a mistake too, in the way I talked to Callum. You are right. He fled. Fled me. I think about that. If I had been gentler, more understanding. Maybe he would have heard me out. At the very least not jumped out of a window to escape me, leaving valuable supplies behind-_

“Yeah, but he does that, Callum.” Ezran reached out to take her hand. “When we were on the first trip to Xadia, he got so distracted bickering with Rayla that he forgot the food we needed to live.”

To his relief, some of the tension left Amaya in a short gasp of laughter. _So you see? Why I am so worried? Callum is not ready for what he is doing. You are very right, Ezran. He will not make smart choices. But Ezran. You are not ready either. You are 11 years old._

“Almost 12!” Ezran said, indignant.

_Almost 12 is not ready either. Not to go to Xadia on your own. And a baby dragon does not count in this case._

“He’s not a baby anymore! He’s…” Well, Amaya was probably not going to buy that a-year-and-a-half was grown up for a dragon. “-a kid. A smart kid.” Well, definitely smarter than a human that age, so it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie-

_Ezran! Not the point! We need to assign people to escort the… KID dragon home. And send a message to his mother at the earliest opportunity._

“Oh, I did that already! Sent the crow before I came here. And Zym also left her a note… he tried, anyway, he’s not very good at writing yet-” Never mind. He had to say his goodbyes. Not let Amaya try to convince him of something he was not about to be convinced of, that was cruel.

So he got up, standing opposite her. Patience was good, but the sun would be up soon.

“I’m not actually asking, Aunt Amaya.” Ezran said, planting his feet, like Rayla had taught him long ago. He felt really bad, leaving her. She had been upset, when Callum left and she would be upset now. But he had made his choice, even if it wasn’t easy. He put his arms around her, squeezing her as hard as he could. “I’m trying to… carry out the choice I’ve made, in the best way. And that includes talking to you, not leaving through the window.”

 _Ezran… Katolis-_ She had _really_ run out of arguments if she was getting to political arguments. Amaya hated politics.

“Amaya. Callum stayed because I needed him. Now I’m leaving because he needs me. And because Rayla needs me. And because _I_ need me.”

_YOU need you?_

“I don’t feel like myself, Aunt Amaya. Like Ez. It’s like there’s no room to make any decisions. I’m just reacting to all the things that are happening, I can’t even help the people I love. I’m not allowed. I’m stuck.” Tears were pushing their way out now, down his cheeks. But he was going to say his piece, and he was gonna go through with his decision, regardless of what his face was doing.

Amaya reached out to wipe his cheeks, warm, familiar calloused hands that nearly made his resolve crumble. _You need you, to rule. I do understand that. And you are not running away. What you are describing, that is not running away, I know what running away looks like._

“But you’ve never run away from anything Aunt Amaya?”

_I have. From you and Callum. When your mother died, I went to the Breach, leaving my nephews who needed me._

“You needed you too! Before you could help us? And you came back, and you found us again.” It wasn’t enough, he could tell. Didn’t penetrate the guilt he saw in her. He would remember. Talk to her again, when he returned, when he had more time.

 _I did not find me at the Breach. I found me when I returned. To my family. I needed you, too._ She was looking intently at him, almost pleading.

Amaya was still trying to convince him to stay, but she was being gentler than she had been with Callum. And she really wouldn’t ever throw him in the dungeon to stop him. He had never seen her as angry as she had been when she had heard Kasef had done that. And she had hugged him for ages after she heard, too. So she was definitely not throwing him in the dungeon.

And short of that, she was not stopping him.

His feet were planted. His choice was made.

 _His_ choice.

Ez’s.

Not King Ezran’s.

“I do need you, Aunt Amaya. Always. But right now, I need you to do something particular for me. And I’m really sorry, because it’s no fun at all.” Ezran reached up to pull off the crown. “I need you to rule.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more Amaya, specifically about the time she mentions around Sarai’s death, [ Purity chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467198/chapters/56375362#workskin) has you covered. 
> 
> Predictions:  
> 9) Amaya will assume the role of regent at some point, because almost all her challenges so far in the show have been physical, and that will test her in new ways. And it opens up new interesting narratives since both her sister and lover were/are queens.  
> 9.a) This also serves the purpose of freeing Ez up to do some adventuring, since I don't think the show will tie him to the court room completely 😉
> 
> Were entering the home stretch for season 4! Another 3 chapters after this one, that makes up the final little finale arc for the season, and then S5 is ago. No worries, the story will continue as it always have. I’ll just start numbering the chapters as 5.X. It’s a continuous storyline, in keeping with how the seasons have worked on the show.
> 
> Up next: A long overdue check-in with how Rayla is doing


	15. 4.14 Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue check-in with how Rayla is doing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented and kudos'ed! We're in the home stretch for S4, this chapter is the first of the three-parter finale arc! 
> 
> I have to skip next chapter, because I won't be home much - summer shenanigans. And I don't want to rush next chapter out, because I'll have to work with my own ill-considered decisions in S5 :D I will keep posting Instant every other day, because those I CAN rush out ;)
> 
> If you want some supplementary material to this story, and/or more Rayllum, I'm posting oneshots every other day throughout July for the Rayllum Birthday Bash event.  
> They are all in this continuity (well, except au prompt, obviously), and a good few expand on things mentioned in this story. So far, prompt 1 is the Oasis do-over referenced in 4.8 and 2 and 5 are the very bad, no-good, trauma-fueled argument referenced in 4.3 and 6 is the Duren ball referenced in 4.1.  
> Story is titled [Instant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011817/chapters/60867190)
> 
> Well, let's see what Rayla is up to!

January 9th through 14th, 0AB, ???

The cold.

It was all around her.

Water and cold.

The full moon above, warm but not enough.

When the light came, and the warmth of the moon left, the water no longer felt cold, but it was too late. It was already inside her.

The _cold._

* * *

Cold, gentle fingers, across her face.

He had touched her. Said sweet things about her that weren’t true, but _he_ thought so. It didn’t mean to him what it had to her. He couldn’t have known how his touch and his words made her heart thump in her chest.

But it did mean what it had meant to her. He just hadn’t known it yet, because dear, sweet Callum was so tragically dense it was a wonder he could swim-

No. She didn’t want to think about water.

They had been on a boat though, then. The second one, with the pirate. The boat where she realized she wanted to smush his dumb-idea-face.

The boat where Villads had asked her who she was. What she stood for.

She hadn’t know then. Still didn’t. She didn’t want to be a hero. Or a princess. At least, not the way other people saw those things.

But she still didn’t know _who she was_.

* * *

“Who are you today, Rayla?” Ethari asked, indulgent and kind.

“Raawwrrr!” She snarled. She was a Shadow Warg with blades for teeth. Those didn’t talk. Duh.

“Oh mercy me, a vicious _bloodthirsty monster_ is attacking the forge!” Ethari dramatically brought his hands to his mouth.

* * *

A bloodthirsty monster… It hurt more than it should when he had said that.

“Rayla?” Callum’s hand unconsciously went to his temple. Where his aunt had hit her. Her head still throbbed dully from the blow. It had left a mark too, she could tell from the way he looked at her. “Are you… okay?” What kind of question was _that?_ Of course she was. And why did _he_ care?

She had not been okay though. And he _had_ cared. Just took her a lot longer to realize. Especially the first one.

She really had not been _okay_.

* * *

“I’m okay Callum.” She was. Mildly stabbed. Just bleeding a lot so it _looked_ bad, but- “It’s not as bad as it loo-” Her words were cut off, when he pressed his bundled scarf against her ribcage because _ow_.

“No. No. Rayla, you’re not okay.” He steadied her back, infinitely gentle with her, though he had just pushed his way through the crowd, panicked and shouting. “We need to get you help.” He looked around at the nobles, just staring at them. “Did anyone think to call a doctor?! ANYONE?!”

“Is Ez okay?” They had come for him, he had been so scared, there might be more, she didn’t _think_ there had been more than the one guy, now taken away by the Crownguard. She pushed up to her feet holding onto Callum’s arm. “Where’s Ez? -is he… okay? I think… only one. But…” The world swam.

No. No thinking about swimming.

And she was back on the floor. She hadn’t fallen, he would never let her fall. But she was down on the floor.

“Hey, hey now. Sweetheart, Ez is okay. Just… stay calm.” _He_ was not calm though. Panic in the wide green eyes. In the tight mouth usually so soft against hers. In his hands, shaking where they held her. In the line of his neck, his shoulders.

He was not _calm_ at all.

* * *

“Calm yourself, Rayla. Passion will not win you battles, it will get you killed.”

“Runaan, I _am_ calm!”

“You are not. Your second-to-last strike was impatient. Left you open.”

She rubbed her ribs. Yeah, that was hard to dispute. Her opponent had been way older though. Taller, stronger and with greater range. And she had still won, in the end _._

But it was not _good enough_.

* * *

“I’m not good enough, and I never will be!” She curled around herself, looking at her reflection, the mess that was her. She didn’t want him to see her like this, all the ugly feelings bubbling out with no chance of stopping them, like the pathetic tears, like the anger he didn’t deserve.

If he just left her alone like she told him to, she wouldn’t have to lose _him_ like she had lost everyone else.

And now he was here, watching her, seeing what she was really like. The way he looked at her and talked to her, like she was good and strong… it would never happen again, because now he was seeing what she was like. Majority had spoken pretty firmly. She was not worth trusting, or loving, or-

“ _Shut up_!”

* * *

“Shut up.”

Her fingers twisted in his scarf.

Her heart twisted in her chest.

She looked at his eyes. Nervous, but he was not retreating, he was not running away from her. He had run _to_ her. Again and again.

She looked at his lips, sweet and tempting and not ahead of him at all, but exactly where they ought to be. Close.

She melted into him, overwhelming relief and want and _need-_

* * *

She needed him!

But he was slipping away, and she could do nothing. The ragged breaths pulled at _her_ chest, the scared whimpers at her heart.

He would die.

He would die and the last thing she had said to him was derision. And he had just taken it. She should have told him the good things instead, but she had been too mad at him, until he had slipped too far away to hear it.

When he had kissed her hand, she had forgotten to be mad at him for five whole minutes, but at the time the mud and the incline and her aching, bruised body and his slack weight against her had taken all of her energy.

He had let her be mean without fighting back. He thought he deserved it. He didn’t. He was better than he thought he was, better than she had let him think, better than the choices he had made for her-

He had to come back to her, had to know how… how she felt, how _good_ he was-

* * *

“-even when you pretend to be scary, I know you’re good inside.” Ezran reached his arms around her neck, because he didn’t know her, or what she had promised to do. Who she was inside. So he thought she was good, because _he_ was good.

He didn’t know what the ribbon around her wrist meant. It was tightening all the time, refusing to let her forget its presence, her broken vow.

But Ezran had tightened his little arms around her, and if there had ever been any choice, it was gone. Her hand would be gone. It would be okay, really. She had promised and this was her consequence. She would pay the price gladly to keep Ezran in the world.

He really _was_ good inside. She was not, but he was.

Callum smiled at her when she showed him the proper battle stance. Paid attention. Thanked her, genuinely, after. His eyes flicked down to her wrist once, _concerned,_ she was sure. He was good inside too, and she didn’t deserve it and it would only last until they realized who she really was, but… she wanted it for as long as she could have it.

She had all sorts of sensible excuses for why she lied, but they were lies too.

The truth of the lie was to postpone the moment they would hate her.

And Callum had believed her lie, because, like Ezran, he thought she was _better_ _than she was_.

* * *

“You’re better than this.”

“Runaan?”

“Rayla, what are you doing here? You’re better than this.” _You shouldn’t be here_. He didn’t say that, but he did.

“I’m really not,” she said. “I showed you, remember? On the ramparts in Katolis.” It wasn’t a memory anymore? You could not talk to a memory, could you?

“You showed me earlier than that. You showed me every day for more than a decade. And I did not see it. Not even when Ethari shouted it in my face.”

“ _Ethari_ shouted?” That did not sound like Ethari. She couldn’t remember him ever _shouting_.

“Yes.”

“I know he told you that I was…” Too good-hearted? Pah. No. “-not suited… to be an assassin. I didn’t know he shouted.”

“He did. That was why he sent you to pick berries in the hills, a couple of days before we left. I should have listened. You should not have lied to me, the consequences for that were dire, as I’m sure you realized. But my failings were much greater.”

“I didn’t understand what it meant. What killing meant.” She hadn’t meant to do what she did, she hadn’t understood-

“I know. That was one of my failings. Not the worst. Remember, Rayla. And get _out!_ ”

* * *

“Get out of here, kid! Shit, you’re too young to be here, how could he do that to a _kid?_ ”

“Dad?”

“You’re… _my_ kid?” But she wasn’t. Not really. Hadn’t been, since she was almost too young to remember. “You are. Rayla. You’re… my-”

He had thrown her into the air and tickled her and carried her on his shoulders, and she had been his kid, when life had been easy and simple.

Later, when life had been harder and more complicated, when Elise had told her no-one liked her jokes and no-one liked _her,_ when douche-muppet had pressed too close to her when they had been dancing, heavy breaths against her neck she didn’t want… he had been far away.

Later still, when life had been… harder than she could have ever imagined? He had been dead, and gone so long already she did not feel his absence like abandonment. She felt it like a guiding star gone from the heavens, a symbol shattered… not parents, not people gone.

“I’m not, really. I’m Rayla.” But not his.

Not for such a very _long_ time.

* * *

“Rayla! It’s been so long! I never thought I would see your face again, and I never wanted to. Not _here._ ”

“Mum?”

“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t know where _here_ was, so how would she know what she was doing here? She had been… in the water- No. Not thinking about water. Before. She had been running? Her blades in her hands, but useless to her- “I was… fighting…?”

“Yeah, that sounds like you. You always were my scrappy little girl.” But that wasn’t right. She had not always been her mum’s little girl. She had not seen her mum in years, even before they died.

“You left?”

“Never in spirit, my love. We thought of you every day, your dad and I.”

But they _had_ left.

They had been absent and therefore perfect in her head.

No adolescent rebellion straining the relationship. No pulling away, tearing chunks out of the admiration. Her mum and dad had been perfect in her head. Heroes. Until they weren’t. Then they had been traitors. Cowards. After Callum had shown her the real reality they had been heroes again.

They had never been fully people. Never fully whole and complicated.

She had never known them well enough.

She rubbed her wrist. It usually hurt when she thought about it. But it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt, although she was sure it ought to.

Just more proof that this wasn’t real.

“You’re not real.” She said, although it was a difficult thing to say out loud. “Not here. You were never _here_.” Wanting something did not make it true.

It was not _real._

* * *

It was real.

Dreams did not hurt this much. Not like this. Not physical and poignant. Dreams did not have all these extra sensations bleeding into focus.

The sharp feeling of breathing.

The smell like salt and blood and fish.

Fish?

“Come on kid, stay with me here. How are you feeling? Well, pretty bad I wager, but more specifically?” Yeah, it hurt like it ought to _now_. Like life ought to. So it was good, because it meant she wasn’t dead. Callum still didn’t quite understand that sometimes, that it was okay that things hurt.

“Callum?” But it wasn’t. Callum was far away. And did not call her ‘kid’. And this man was too tall and broad and had lifted her too easily. Ethari? But he smelled wrong. Like the sea.

“I’m not your Caelum.” Callum. Not Caelum. But he sounded friendly. Gentle, like Callum. Like Ethari. “But I will help you. You are hurt.” Yes. She could tell. Pain in her head and shoulder and chest. “What's your name, kid? And who are your parents? Other people I should try to contact?” It was _serious_ then, if he was asking about her people. It didn’t feel that bad, but… the world was still fuzzy. That wasn’t good.

“Rayla.” She managed. Her throat was dry and everything tasted like salty carpet.

“That’s your name? I’m Tarrel.” He was doing something. “Drink, Rayla.” Gentle hands at the back of her neck, blessed non-salty liquid in her mouth. Sweet, but with none of the tartness of berries. Warm. “Oh, liquid shit!” Something was wrong. She heard cloth tearing, then pressure against the back of her head. “Poor kid. I’ll take you to our healer. First though. Can you tell me anything else? Your parents? Where you’re from?” He asked that like those were easy, simple questions. They were not.

She had four parents. Only one still alive. Not mother or father. But he was anyway. “Ethari. My dad.” He wasn’t, but he was. The only one left. And where she was from? Nowhere? Katolis? The Storm Spire? The Silvergrove? That was where she was from, where she was born. Not her home anymore. “Rayla from the Silvergrove.” Not quite right, but maybe what he meant?

“Anal fin fuckery…” Oh, Ezran would like that one. She would have to remember… But she was sure there was something else… more important, that she should remember. “You’re _that_ Rayla? You’re so _young. You_ avenged Avizandum?” He was taken aback, but did not seem to actually doubt it. “Why would you lie though? I already said I would help you, even if you hadn’t been a proper fucking _hero_.” Hero. She only liked that word when Callum said it. To everyone else it meant she had killed. Avenged.

She tried to focus, to get up, her savior, he was… blue. Greenish blue. Callum’s weird color obsession was rubbing off on her. She got a clear glimpse, elven, older man, kind face, Tidebound? But the cost of that brief focus was searing pain in her head and dizzy nausea. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to get up though.

Her limbs were too cold to obey her. She vaguely felt sand against her fingertips, but… “Are you trying to get _up,_ girl? Take it easy. You won’t be getting up today or tomorrow, I can assure you of that. You drowned. That does a number on a body even discounting the rest.” Rest? Her head hurt. And she wasn’t getting up, she was sinking further down, sinking, like she had in the water.

She was lifted off the cold sand. Nestled against warm, broad chest. Ethari? No, Ethari did not swear in front of her, only when he thought she couldn’t hear.

Movements like walking.

Then she sank too far down to register anything but darkness.

* * *

“Callum.” It was not him though. It was not the man who had rescued her, either. This man was… younger. Darker blue. Less gentle, more professional.

“No, I’m not your Caelum, as I’ve told you multiple times.” Snippy, annoyed tone. Weird, she had never met him before. And it was Callum. “I am Volum. The unfortunate Tidebound healer who have been stuck up here keeping you alive. You are on Minuata Island, off the southern coast of Xadia.”

Her vision swam as she pushed up on her elbows. It was like… she wasn’t getting enough air. The world was… fuzzy. But she had things to do here, in the stupid, fuzzy, painful real world. She was pretty sure there had been a big mess, and she had to fix it. It was her mess. Waiting for her, back there. Probably, it had probably grown while she had been out. Messes always did, all on their own. “Can you… take me back… there?” Her throat hurt too. Everything hurt, really. Breathing hurt. But that was… less important right now.

“A very inflexible no to that.” He looked coolly down at her, arms crossed. “Lie back down.”

“Why? I get that I’m…” What _was_ even wrong with her? Why was her body not doing what she wanted?

“ _Why?_ Girl, you drowned. Not nearly either. You drowned. Seawater in your lungs, bacteria and fungi in your lungs, hypothermia, open wounds exposed to seawater for hours… take your pick. Mostly, although not solely, you and I are both stuck up here for a while because of your lungs. An infection. We’ve managed it, but you were very sick. This is the first time in days you have been this lucid.”

“Days?! I have to get going!”

“ _Get going?!_ I don’t think you quite realize the situation. You were _dead._ You got close to that state _again_ a few times over the four days you’ve been here.”

Four days?! That was …a long time. A lot could happen in four days. Probably a lot had. A lot of bad things.

It was still a bit fuzzy what had happened, but she remembered… fire. Soren being captured. Claudia holding her braid in her hand…

Callum.

Callum would have received the message Claudia had no doubt sent. He could be walking into a trap right now. Soren was certainly in the hands of the father who had treated him as less than a person his whole life. Her throat felt even tighter, her breath more of a struggle. She had been trying to get up, but she was flat on her back again with a tiny nudge from the healer, and it seemed unfair when it was so hard to get there, that it should be so easy for him to push her back down.

But… she had things to do in this stupid, painful world.

“Can you send a message?” She asked. “To the Silvergrove? Or Katolis? Or to a specific person?”

“Specific person? No. That would require a strong personal connection. Katolis? Also no. Too far, and too far inland. Silvergrove? Also no. It’s protected by illusions, anti-scrying to prevent exactly that. We did try to send a message there, shortly after you arrived.” She had the tokens… in her saddlebags. Far away. Claudia might have gotten to Kito and Bella in those four days, but she had to try.

“What can I do then? I need to leave.” She needed to get back. Send a message to Callum, that she was not caught, that she was okay. He was probably… definitely… doing something stupid right now. And she needed to rescue Soren. But she needed help for that. Backup. She had lost against just Claudia, at the height of her power. Callum had been right. She had _not_ been able to take her. Maybe she could _now,_ though. When she knew more about what Claudia could do, when she didn’t have that staff.

But first things first. Get to the mainland. Look for Corvus. Look for their mounts, Kito and Bella. Kito could handle himself in a Xadian forest but Bella certainly couldn’t. And she needed the tokens in Kito’s saddlebag to send a message to Katolis via the Silvergrove, likely still the fastest way to get word to Callum. First things first though, she needed to get out of this… spongy… bed-thing?... she was in. And get back to shore.

“You should not be doing anything.” The healer said, still just staring at her like she was weird, when he was the one who didn’t get it, when it was really very simple that she had to get up. “I am confident you _could_ not, despite your impressive disregard for reality.” She pushed herself back up. She could definitely prove that asshole wrong-

Oh. Her body really was not cooperating at all. Her chest hurt. Breathing hurt. How could _breathing_ hurt? Well, she had broken ribs before, so of course she knew breathing could hurt, but not like _this._ Restricting. Hurt _inside._ Breathing should be a basic right. Callum had said so. It’s why he made the fizz instead of choking people. He was soft and sweet and rushing into danger right now. “I need to leave!” She yelled. Or tried to. He had to understand. “Please! My friends are in danger. I need to leave. Please take me back to-” She did not know _where_ she was, but Tidebound elves out in the open sea somewhere? “-to the mainland. Now. Or as fast as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am, right away. We’ll just take our recently dying patient with pneumonia across winter seas to leave her on some empty shoreline. Seems reasonable. Not at _all_ likely to kill her for the second time this week.” She thought healers were supposed to be gentle. And he was leaving now, plainly _not_ on an errand to secure her a boat to the mainland.

“Help me. Please.” She managed. “Help me help my friends. My love.” But it hurt to talk and she could barely hear her own voice now, and certainly not get the attention of people on the other side of the room. She got up. To her feet, with some effort. But she was standing, even if the world was crashing like the waves. Into her and over her. Fading. In and out.

Out. Then in again, when she braced herself against the floor coming up to meet her, sending pure agony through her left wrist, jolts of it all the way up her arm.

She gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. She wasn’t standing anymore. She had been, but now she wasn’t, because she felt the floor against her hip and shoulder, not against her feet. And then no more pain, no more anything.

She was back against the yielding sponge. She had to get up, because if she could not send a message from here then she had to go somewhere where she could. When she pushed herself up though, her left wrist hurt like it hadn’t in many months.

And Healer Jerkface was regarding her coolly. “Yeah, you messed that up worse than it already was when you got here. It was not really anything to worry about compared to your other concerns. But then you thought you needed more injuries, so you got up and then fell.” Shit. She did _not_ need more injuries, did _not_ need more things slowing her down, she had wasted plenty of time.

He was manipulating her wrist. It hurt, although everything did. “It’s sprained, although it might have already been, hard to tell while you were out, and like I said, it was not really a priority.” Still wasn’t. But that made three times sprained since the binding came off. Triple shit. It didn’t change anything though, just made things even more inconvenient than they already were.

She still had to get up. She made it to sitting, pushing up with her right hand, cradling her left against her chest, before her head hurt so much the world swam and she had to squeeze her eyes closed against the nausea.

“Stay down, you complete lunatic. I see why your kind inspired that term, _Moon_ shadow. Have you any sense of how badly you were hurt? Any sense of self-preservation at all?” The mean healer grumbled. His hands settled her back against the sponge, gentler than the rest of him. Then he spoke into some piece of pipe by the wall, not addressed at her. “Get up here please. And bring her a brace. The kind we use for small children who cannot be trusted to take due care.” That _was_ addressed at her. Asshole.

Then he talked again, but not to her. “And get the fisherman who brought her in. He seemed invested in her survival, so let _him_ try to talk some sense into her.” Footsteps, leading away. Stomping. Frustrated.

She stayed down, but only because her body was giving her no choice in the matter. For now.

After a while, another person came. Not the mean healer but an older woman. She placed something at her wrist, growing against her skin like smooth, living rock to fit perfectly. It would have to go though, because it was too rigid, and she couldn’t fight with that on. She tried to explain that to her, that it was a waste. But she just tutted like Ethari did when she was little and hurt herself.

And the world was fading away again, out of focus.

“Hey kid.”

“Ethari?”

“No.” Gentle voice. Hands brushing her forehead, her hair. Gentle too. It pulled at her like nothing else had, that touch. She blinked warm tears from her eyes. “Tarrel. I don’t know if you remember. I found you in the water and brought you here.”

“I remember… you were bl-blue.” It came out weak and blubbering, because he was still touching her and it was stripping away the defiance she needed to push through, to _get up._ And damnit, she wanted him so desperately to not stop that the words she should have said, telling him to stop and to leave… they weren’t happening. He was kind. Maybe _he_ would help her. “Help me…”

“Hey, you’ll be okay. Sorry about Volum, he’s an asshole. But he’s not a terrible healer and he really will help you, you don’t have to worry about that. The worst is over-” No. He didn’t know. It wasn’t over at all, and she had to stop blubbering and get _up_.

“No. Help me get back… I have to-”

“Kid. No. No, no. I want to help you, but not like that. You have to stay here for a while longer, you were very sick. I pulled you from that water because I _don’t_ make a habit of leaving children to die alone.”

She looked up at him, her view of him clearer now than it had been, but the pull from below, down… it was still there, and it was a struggle she was not sure she would win, to not give in. “I don’t want to die. I want to get up. I _have_ to get up. I have to… find Kito, get the message tokens. Find Soren, save him. Find Corvus… wherever he is. Send a message… to Callum… n’Ez… Go to the Moonshadow settlements-” Not in that order though. And her head hurt, and the world was foggy again, and she was not getting up, and she had to, and no-one understood that she _had_ to.

“All that cannot possibly be on the shoulders of one injured and sick child!” He was almost… indignant? Like Callum got, sometimes. For her. But he didn’t understand. Either of them. “I found you so far from the mainland. You must have been in the water for so long. Many hours in cold winter seas while injured. For someone who fought as hard as you must have to survive, you seem so eager to rush off to certain death.” He sounded sad now. “You have to trust your friends now. That they will be okay.” But she knew they wouldn’t. _He_ wouldn’t.

“You don’t know Callum. He’s got this… dumb idea -face, like- and his… stupid head. Not dumb… but- not- he’s not-”

“He’ll be okay.”

“Human. He’s human. Don’t hurt him. My human.” He would come. He ran after her even when he shouldn’t. Even off cliffs. And the waves were crashing over her now, she was sinking, she didn’t want to, but it was happening- “I have to get up. You have to tell them- …that.”

“I’ll tell them. We will not hurt your Callum, even if he is human. We do not live out here because we are an aggressive and imperialistic bunch, you know.” He chuckled slightly. “Even a human would be in no danger from us, if he did not attack first. So you can stay down and get better, alright kid?”

She could not _wait_ to get better. She could not stay down until she was. Callum and Soren needed better, better than she was. Up. Now. “’have to be better… _now_. t’get up… _now_ …”

“Don’t fight the tide, kid. You’ll lose. I think I get how you got to be a hero, as young as you are. You have the attitude. But listen. You have a dad. A human boy you love. Certainly a lot more than that. You do not have to get up. You have to stay down. That’s your job right now. Because you will die a hero if you get up.”

“m’ not a hero… not… like that. I can do it… I’m not… dead.” She should have died and she didn’t. Twice now. But she was not dead and that meant she had things to do.

“No. You’re not dead.” He still sounded sad again. His gentle hands kept stroking her hair, kept her tears flowing, or at least she thought he was, because she couldn’t stop and couldn’t get up. And he was talking, but it was floaty. And far away. And like… he was not talking to her but to himself or… the room? The world? “What happened to you, kid? I don’t even mean who would do something like this to a child even though that’s definitely also a thing I wonder about, but liquid shit, girl! How did you get here?! How did a… what?... 16…17-year-old? …get to the point of thinking so much is on you, when you are this sick? To the point of thinking your life matters so little? I don’t even know you, and it’s like _I_ care more about you than you do. I pulled you from that water, then pulled the water from your lungs, the lifeblood back in your heart. I held your life in my hands for but a moment, an important moment, but still only a moment. And I would grieve if you died. Surely your Ethari, who held you for so much longer, he would grieve much more. Your human that you love, who I assume loves you back?”

“Yes.” She was sure about that. About their love. She was never sure about her parents, as far back as she could remember. They were never really _real._ She was never sure what they thought of her. If she was daughter… or duty. Someone they missed or part of a life they had left behind. But Callum was real. And Ez and Ethari and Soren. She loved them and they loved her.

She was sure.

She was important, Callum kept telling her, not just for what she could do but for _her_.

The man, Tarrel, the blue one. He was there too. Real. Talking to her. “-so stay down, for now. Okay?” The world felt more real. The pain, more real too. It really, _really_ hurt. She could hear him though, much clearer now. “You want to live, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I was not really happy with the second part of it, but I've been staring at this chapter for too long.
> 
> Predictions (although these might happen in the comic and not S4-5, I started planning this pre-comic):  
> 10) Rayla will have a boss battle that will be an internal struggle against death. It’s central to Moonshadow philosophy, acceptance of death. And she will fight that acceptance and cast it off. Rayla has been doing a lot of physical fighting in the show already. And I see ‘nothing’ as the hardest thing of all for Rayla to do.  
> 11) Rayla will communicate with her parents/Runaan who are stuck in some life/death limbo. Cryptic and not knowing whether it’s a dream, because she will be in that limbo herself at the time.
> 
> Also, lovely mistenflute drew awesome fanart from chapter 4.4 of this story, not something I ever thought I would experience! You can see it [here](https://www.deviantart.com/seddiethunder/art/Rayllum-Month-2020-Day-9-Nightmares-Comfort-848349523)
> 
> Up next: Callum and Ethari look for their girl - this will be up Tuesday July 28th, so in 2 weeks


	16. 4.15 To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Ethari look for their girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, commenting and kudos'ing! I really appreciate all of you :)
> 
> Last chapter was super important and I was really unsure about it, but the response from you guys was amazing, and it really means a lot to me to hear my writing resonates with people. So thank you so much!
> 
> If you want some supplementary material to this story, and/or more Rayllum, I'm posting oneshots every other day throughout July for the Rayllum Birthday Bash event.  
> They are all in this continuity (well, except au prompt, obviously), and a good few expand on things mentioned in this story. So far, prompt 1 is the Oasis do-over referenced in 4.8 and 2 and 5 are the very bad, no-good, trauma-fueled argument referenced in 4.3, 6 is the Duren ball referenced in 4.1, 8 is a supplement to Callum's drunk birthday from the prologue and 13 expands on Callum's hair woes from chapter 4.7.  
> Story is titled [Instant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011817/chapters/60867190)

6.12AM, January 15th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

Callum’s memory held onto things. Even if he made no effort to, even if he would rather forget.

Ezran’s round toddler-face screwing up with upset and blue eyes overflowing after he had said something horrible to him, the precursor to the inception of the Jerkface Dance.

Rayla’s face after the mess he made at the Bantherlodge, blood smeared across her chin, dark bruising at her temple, hurt that Amaya caused because of him… hurt in her eyes that he caused all on his own.

The tracking spell Claudia had used to find them, back when they had just hatched Zym.

It had been in one of Viren’s books and he could see the trigger-words before him, as well as the list of necessary components. Just two.

Firstly, something personal from the person you were seeking. Like the braid in his pocket.

And secondly, moon moths.

Moon moths. Like the one settling on his knee right now. That was… almost like a sign. Dark magic was _easy._ Risky, but easy. Getting the components was the hard part. And the components were right there, sitting on his knee, rubbing its hairy antennae against the mud stained fabric of his trousers.

He had tried to send the messenger bird four times from this hilltop, and a good few others without success - to Rayla, Soren, Corvus and Ethari. His focus and energy were waning and so was the moon. There had been no response to the spell, they were either too far away or warded or both. And his focus and energy were waning and so was the moon.

There was nothing out here at all except empty wilderness. He had seen some streak of light off in the distance at some point, but had not seen its origin, and besides, it could have been anything.

It would be dawn soon, and then there would be no attempts at tracking for another whole day. At least he would be able to see better, come morning. Find the burned forest Terry had talked about. But even so, the thought that she was out here somewhere, scared or alone or injured or captive… any or all of those things really… it was almost unbearable.

She could be dying. Or she could be dead. She had been alive when Ethari had sent the letter, but that was days ago.

And the means to track her was right here. Still. Could fly away at any moment, but for now, there on his knee.

He trapped the moth between his cupped hands and his trousers, without harming it. He just had to… think. He couldn’t afford to let an option just… fly away.

Like he had.

He had flown off like Ezran had dreaded him doing, had flown across the continent like Rayla had explicitly said was terrifying to her, had run away instead of facing his aunt head-on.

And he was failing again, now.

He was running out of options, considering one that he _knew_ Rayla would not want him to take.

Leaning forward, he touched his forehead to his hands. He could hear the flutter of tiny wings… trapped inside them. “I’m sorry, my love,” he said.

Rayla wasn’t here. He didn’t know if he would ever see her again. But he had no-one else to talk to, so he kept talking, because Rayla was very right that his head did not do so well left to its own devices. “I know you wouldn’t want this. I don’t know what else to do. How to find you. You’re too far away. If I make a mistake… if I walk into an ambush… that could kill you too.” They were trying to lure _him,_ Amaya had said. If that was true, they could kill her if they got him. Or hurt her to get to him, which would succeed in an extremely short order. He couldn’t get caught. Even if the spell _succeeded,_ it might not be a good idea to follow it. But he knew… he would. If the spell succeeded, he would follow.

It was not a good idea, using the messaging spell. It was too well-known, they would know of it. They should _not_ know he had the Moon arcanum necessary to perform it, but still… It was not a good idea, he had just been doing it anyway because it was his _only_ idea.

Short range. So if Viren or Claudia saw it, they would know he was close, even if he was lucky enough to have them miss the origin or trajectory of a flamboyant-ass glowing bird. They might think they no longer needed Rayla, if they indeed had her, once his bird found them.

Moon primal spell. They would know that about him, something they might not have, before.

And if he did follow it, he was very likely walking into a trap. He could not win against Claudia and Viren both, trying to would _also_ put her in danger.

He was very likely _lucky_ it had not succeeded yet, it could doom them both if it did.

And he did not even know if _anything_ in Claudia’s letter had been truth. She might not have Soren at all. She might not have Rayla, she might have left her for dead somewhere and lied about having her.

“Rayla-” He choked, swallowing the sob that tried to get out, as well as the accompanying pathetic thought ‘help me’, because _she_ was the one that needed help, and-

His hands shook so badly the moth got out, fluttering away in the night. He could do a shockwave of low-level static, excellent for striking a bug in midair-

No.

There was one more thing he could try.

The only spell Rayla had taught _him._ It was flashy and risky, but visible from much further away than the birds could fly. And half of the four people he was trying to find would know what it meant.

“Arnemus Trabem!”

The sky lit up around him, a vertical pillar of silver-purple light.

The Silvergrove emergency beacon.

For long moments, nothing happened. Then the same beacon streaked towards the sky, off in the distance.

He took flight.

* * *

“Callum!” Ethari came up to him as he set down. He had been on the move towards his position, and had almost certainly thought it was Rayla, because he did not look exactly happy to see him. Well, he had kind of hoped Ethari had been Rayla, too.

Ethari looked him up and down, taking in his harrowed and unkempt appearance. “You got my message, I gather.” Ethari said, still a bit stunned, but smiling just a bit, now. He was happy to see _someone._ And so was Callum. Very. But he had some bad news to share with him, as if they had not both had enough of both giving and receiving bad news lately.

“Yes. And another message. I’m here to find Rayla, like you are.”

“Lad. Let’s go get our girl.” Ethari sounded so sure it was like a weight dropping from his shoulders, and when Ethari pulled him into a firm hug, Callum almost sobbed with pure _relief_.

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed not just Rayla, but people. People he could trust. People to share in his decisions so he wasn’t making them all alone. Adults. He clung to the man’s broad, sturdy frame, a bit embarrassed, but desperation for contact and comfort overriding it.

This trip… this was what it was like for Ez? All the time? Making decisions alone, and doubting all of them, and fearing the consequences?

“You have not had an easy time of it, as of late, have you?” Ethari asked gently. Callum shook his head against his shoulder. “No. Neither have I.”

Callum might have clung to him longer than he was proud of, but he drew away. They had things to do. Possibly things to do before moonset, which had to be pretty soon.

It had been dark for a long time, it felt like.

“Have you seen anyone?” Callum asked. “Rayla? Claudia or Viren? The people Rayla was with? Two young human men, Soren and Corvus.”

“There’s a human tracker out here somewhere, I saw him on a hillside, and found his camp, but he was no longer in it. I would have liked to speak to him, but he’s been keeping his distance. I don’t know where he is now, I don’t think it’s me he’s interested in. But he’s close, I think. You can probably reach him with Nuntius Avem, if you know him well enough to connect. You have to move _now_ though. Dawn is minutes away.” Moonshadow. Rayla always knew when dawn was coming, before he could see the change in the light. “I have a lead on Rayla, she’s still alive and-”

“What?!” Callum exclaimed. Why was that not the _first_ thing he had said?! “Why didn’t you-”

“Lad. She’s far away. And nothing you can do in the next ten minutes will help her more than finding your tracker, and ascertaining what happened. What we may be walking into if we follow my lead. So go speak to him and return here.” Ethari spoke firmly. It _was_ the right thing to do, he knew.

“I’ll go. Talk to him, and if necessary, bring him back here. I can carry him if it’s not too far.”

Ethari’s strong hands tightened around his tired and overworked shoulders. Unspoken doubt about that claim probably. But he could do it. He would.

* * *

He did not quite have the speed necessary to follow the bird, but finding Corvus proved easier than he had thought.

Corvus had lit a torch by the time he landed, signaling from atop a boulder. It was almost comical, the way the man, in the middle of the wilderness, stood up straight when he saw him, and bowed formally. “Prince Callum.” Corvus said, as he set down.

“Please don’t, Corvus.” Callum sighed. “We’re in Xadia. I’m not your prince here. I don’t particularly want to be your prince in Katolis either. Or anyone’s prince.”

“That first part is not strictly speaking true, your High-” Corvus stopped, probably seeing the look on his face, or the state of his face or maybe just grasping the overall absurdity of this. And his face fell. “I have some… bad news, my- er, Callum.”

“I think I already got them.”

“Callum. I understand wanting revenge, but-”

“Revenge?! I’m not here for revenge, I’m here for Rayla!”

“I am so sorry.”

“What do you mean, sorry? She’s not dead.”

“What?! Did Viren or Claudia tell you that?” Corvus seemed to have gotten the idea now. The urgency. “Did they tell you they had her captive or something like that? I’m so sorry, but if they did, they were lying.”

“She’s not captive?!” Callum’s heart soared. She was not captive, and not dead! That meant she was somewhere he could find her!

“No, but-” Corvus was cut off because the impact of Callum throwing his arms around him almost bowled him over.

Callum laughed out loud with relief. “Thank you so much! This is great!”

“Callum, please.” Corvus pleaded with him. “I know this is hard to hear-”

“ _Listen!_ I know she’s not dead. I’m not in denial. I’m not crazy. I know. Rayla’s foster father, back in her home town, he can track her life with magic. And she’s still alive. So please, stop trying to convince me, and tell me the facts instead, so I know what we’re working with.” Callum demanded firmly.

Corvus smiled just slightly, but genuinely and all the way through, relief settling over him, like warmth on someone coming in from the cold. He was _very_ relieved, Callum realized. He had been pulling it together, same as him. Just _much_ more successfully.

“For someone who claims to not want to be a prince, that was very commanding.” Corvus said, smirking now, some of the snark returning too. “But fine, I will tell you all I’ve found. Sit? You look…” Like a ragamuffin that just rolled down a hill? “-weary, my princely not-prince.”

* * *

“When I saw Rayla’s flower floating again, I had the time and materials before moonset to make two arrows.” Ethari explained, as Callum returned, sans Corvus. “I sent one of those to you as soon as I was able. Not to Rayla. I was too far away to help her, and if she was injured and hiding, it might give away her position. I sent the one to Rayla a couple of hours before you found me.”

He had _seen_ it. The streak of light in the distance. He could have _followed_ it. And now that was too late. He sank down onto a rock, burying his head in his hands.

“Lad. You could not have followed it. Not that fast, that far. Not as tired as you are. Breathe. Stop thinking about the things you could have done differently. I’ve done enough of that for both of us.”

Callum breathed, all the way down to his stomach. He was a sky mage, and quite good at breathing, when he put his mind to it.

“Good. Now we follow the map, since the trajectory I charted is in accordance with the directions Corvus gave us. What I was doing before, but now we have two sets of eyes and more knowledge than we did before. She is not dead and not captive. So we _will_ find her.”

“Map?”

“Yes. I did have some semblance of a plan. Not a brilliant one, granted, but a plan.” He pulled out a map, the landscape sketched, the mountaintops and rivers marked out. A line drawn from the top of one mountain. “I drew the map, then the trajectory of the arrow on it when it flew. It’s hard to follow from the ground though. With occasional aid from above however,” he nodded upwards, “it’ll be much easier.”

“I have something better!” He drew out the thingie Terry had given him. “It’s an Earthblood gadget. It follows invisible forces in the ground. You turn the arrow to the direction you want, and it’ll stay pointed that way.”

“So you had a plan too,” Ethari smiled.

“No.” Callum admitted. No point pretending. “I had a mate.”

* * *

“This is the place?” Ethari asked, gesturing at the cliff’s edge facing the ocean.

“It should be. Corvus tracked two sets of footprints here. Both smallish, and probably female. One elven, light impressions and weight on the front of the feet like someone trained to move quietly. He was quite certain it was Rayla. He’s tracked her before and he’s good at what he does. It was her. The other human, heel imprints like Katolis makes them, but worn. Claudia, almost certainly. There were signs of a struggle, and only the human imprints left. He was tracking Claudia back to where I met him, he lost her trail there, and was looking to pick it back up. Hopefully he’s picked it back up by the time we get back. Either way, _w-when…_ ” It was _definitely_ when and not if. “-we find Rayla. She’ll know where they were hiding, she found them, clearly. Corvus will keep an eye on the area until we return, for signs of them moving base or the like. Soren-” Callum breathed deeply. “Soren will have to hang in there until then.” Corvus had said Soren maybe-plus-plus _was_ captured. It was awful to leave him, but they had to.

They found the place Corvus had mentioned. It was not difficult. The ‘signs of struggle and dark magic use’ was in fact a sizable area of blackened, dead grass. No mistaking it. Any footprints were long gone, but it didn’t matter. This was the place.

Whatever lingering joy Callum had felt at hearing Rayla was not captive evaporated as he walked towards the cliff’s edge. Jagged rock. Steep drop. Rocks in the water below. Freezing water this time of year.

No way of making it back up, he thought with a sinking, sickening feeling. Even with Rayla’s impressive climbing skills and determination… after the impact of that kind of drop? And she had _died-_

“Could she have made it back up? Somewhere else?” he asked Ethari, even though he thought he knew the answer.

“During the full moon? Yes. Not likely and not easily, but yes,” the man said, surprisingly. “But she didn’t.”

“Why not? You couldn’t have seen the arrow this far from where you shot it. If she got back up, she could be anywhere around here, maybe too injured to get help or contact us?” It was surreal and awful to say this and hope for it.

“Trajectory and speed of my arrow. Swift. Towards the Ocean. And because she died. And now she is alive. Have you heard that people can sometimes be brought back from past death?” Ethari looked pained. “If they drown.” He almost choked on the last words.

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Tidebound elves can do it. And they are supposed to be here. In this area. It’s still just… a guess though. I _don’t_ know, anymore than you do… I _don’t_ want to think that’s what-” Ethari gestured out to the sea. He had been so composed, but now he was faltering, shaking. “She- S-She was always so scared of water, even as a wee-”

Callum couldn’t stop what was on the tip of his tongue from spilling out. “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had.” To just stand here… speculating about which of several possible horrible things had happened to someone you loved.

Ethari put his arm around his shoulders, warm weight against his side. “I know.”

“We have to have it though.”

“Yes.”

“I’m really glad you’re here. That I’m not… having this conversation with myself. I don’t make very good company for myself.” Callum admitted grimly.

“I made such bad company for myself that a month of it got me to participating in banishing the living person I loved most in the world.” Ethari said, his gaze still fixed out the horizon.

“Yeah, guess you got me beat there.”

“Callum,” Ethari smirked just a little bit, grim humor in his eyes. “This conversation is also pretty bad.”

The reverberations of shared mirthless laughter shook them both.

The wind was blowing inward from the sea, whipping their clothes around them, exposed as they were out here on the precipice.

Some paranoid, irrational part of Callum’s mind was actually considering if that was a sign, if it was telling him something, if it was telling him she was not out there, she was up here somewhere along this merciless shore… alone.

But that was ridiculous. He was a Sky mage. He _knew_ the wind was not a harbinger of anything but the weather conditions.

But… Claudia had gotten to Rayla on the night of the full moon. Had known things she shouldn’t have. He definitely didn’t know everything about the world, or magic. He had told Rayla, proudly, at the time, because it had been so _cool,_ that no magic existed that could see through her full moon form. But Claudia had gotten to her anyway, somehow.

They needed to know. She could be dying and they needed to know for sure. They couldn’t choose wrong.

“We should wait for moonrise.” Callum said. “Because if I continue to follow the trajectory you charted, which I’m sure we agree is the only way we can really go from here, then I should wait. I’ll be stronger, fly faster under the moon. And I need the moon so I can try the message spell every couple of miles out. And also, there’s something else horrible I need to do. Should do. Historia Viventum. You know it?”

It was _worse_ than the conversation. Way worse. For all he knew he would be watching Rayla be tortured or worse… spell components. He swallowed the bile in his throat. He would have to focus. It would be hard.

There could be no ambivalence when casting the spell. He had to want it, badly. That was not the issue.

It had to be unambivalent want, at least in that moment. That… might be an issue.

It was recent, only a few days past, that made it easier to locate the right point in time. Eas _ier_. Not actually _easy._

“I know it was what you used to see what happened to Lain and Tiadrin.” Ethari said. “And I know _of_ it. That spell was thought lost to the ages. ‘Temptation and ruin’, it was described as. But if it will show us what happened to Rayla, then I agree. It’s maybe four hours till moonrise. You should sleep.” What?!

“Sleep?!” Callum exclaimed. Never mind that being the absolute last thing on his mind, there was no way he would be able to. “I can’t! She’s…”

“She is alive. And we will find her. And if you cannot sleep, then you can at least lie down and rest.” Ethari’s voice was very kind of… firm. Like his dad’s, when he had told him he could finish some drawing tomorrow, _now_ it was bedtime.

A lot of the jittery, unnatural energy seemed to go away, leaving just… shaky exhaustion and weird numbness.

He sat down heavily, for starters, looking out over the sea. The wind blew warm liquid across his temples.

Or maybe he was crying?

Calum closed his eyes, feeling the wind from the sea, the smell of the Ocean. The smell too, of some… rot? Corruption? It was dark magic, he knew it, the blackened grass.

He vaguely registered Ethari’s presence, him sitting down next to him.

Guiding him to lie down, his head in his lap.

Gentle fingers, carding through his tangled hair.

He did not have horns, or the bundles of nerves at the hornbeds, but it was still calming. Warming. Because of what it _meant_ too.

Family.

* * *

“Historia Viventum!” Please work, _please_ work!

It didn’t.

For the fifth time. It felt like betrayal. He was apparently so selfish that he could not relinquish the unwillingness to see her tortured or… no. He couldn’t even think about it properly, and that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“I don’t think I can do it.” Callum admitted, shamefully. “I’m not strong enough. I can’t put the part of me away that doesn’t _want_ to see it. That’s scared of what I’ll see.” Rayla would have. She was selfless to a fault, much more tolerant of things hurting than he was, and this was betrayal.

Control of his own mind had always been his weakness. He was no good at ignoring the bad feelings without her there.

“I could try,” Ethari suggested, although he did not sound optimistic. “I have never done the spell, and learning the rune would take time. But I could. I might… not succeed either, though.” No. Ethari loved her too. The love was tied to the motivation they needed to cast the spell, but it was also the cause of the critical ambivalence that had halted his attempts and would likely do the same for Ethari.

“Or I could fly. Follow the trajectory. It’s the most likely thing to have happened to her, we agree on that. Or I could keep trying the spell. Three options.”

“That last one is not an option.” Ethari said sternly. “Not as is. Not unless you can change your own mind.”

“I’m not very good at that. Rayla is, though. She can always talk sense into my dumb head.”

“Oh.” Ethari looked thoughtful now, to his surprise. “Well. Then… let’s have _her_ talk some sense into your dumb head, eh? And mine. She’s good at that too.”

“What?!” Rayla wasn’t _here!_ That was the _whole_ point!

“You heard me.” Ethari said, determined now. “I just… have to think of the right memory.”

Ethari drew a familiar rune, Lujanne had shown him, he remembered-

“Memoriae vividus!”

Rayla stepped toward him, but not the Rayla he knew. Much younger. Maybe 5… 6 years old? An illusion. Ethari’s memories of her. She looked up at him, smiling widely, her front teeth missing.

Gods that was painfully adorable. And also just… painful.

He looked at her gap-toothed grin, her enormous, lilac eyes, wide and trusting. Innocent of all the bad things that would happen to her in the decade to come.

Then, Ethari’s voice, but different. Echoey. And Ethari wasn’t speaking. Oh. This was part of the memory too. How Ethari heard his _own_ voice. “Your foot doesn’t hurt you anymore? I know you want to train, but if it still hurts, you shouldn’t. And be honest now. The training can wait.” It didn’t sound… quite right, the words. Like he was piecing together a memory. Paraphrasing.

Little Rayla pouted. It definitely still hurt then. But also… that expression was somehow more… vivid. Real. Probably Ethari had seen it a lot. “It does.” She admitted, then seemed to think of an argument. “But not a lot! A little! A little is okay! Runaan trains when he’s a _little_ hurt _all_ the time.”

“Runaan is a grown-up, who makes his own… occasionally questionable… choices. _You’re_ little. So even a little is not okay.” Ethari’s echoey memory-voice.

“But it’s important!” She said, very earnest.

“Not that important. You have many years ahead of you to train.”

“I know _that!_ ” Little Rayla was looking up at him, imploring him to understand. “But Emina and her mum are both there today, because it’s Wednesday! And if I’m not there, then she’s paired with Eloise to spar. And she would lose and then her mum gets mad. And that hurts her more than a little. Her mum is okay if she loses to _me,_ because I’m really good, and I’m also four months older than Emina. Eloise is younger, and way worse than me, and she would still win, because Emina isn’t good at all, but-”

“Rayla. Emina is not your responsibility. But you are mine, understand?”

“What’s re-spon-si-bi-li-ty?”

“It is like duty. Like mine, to keep you safe from hurt.”

“But… she’s no-one’s? That’s why she’s mine? Because her mum doesn’t care that she’s hurting her? And someone should.” Very stubbornly, the little girl planted her feet like she had taught him and Ezran long ago.

“I thought you didn’t like Emina?”

“No, she’s mean when I win. But I still don’t want her mum to yell at her, that’s more mean.”

The real Ethari dropped to his knees in front of memory-Rayla. Callum could tell from the way her line of sight shifted that he was mimicking what he had done, then.

He probably hadn’t been crying then, though.

“Rayla. I don’t-”

“It’ll be okay, Ethari.” The little illusion walked forwards to hug him, her tiny incorporeal hand coming up to stroke his hair. “It won’t be as bad as it is in your head. You’ll see.”

She faded away with the sob that escaped from Ethari’s throat, with his focus lost.

Ethari wiped his face, as he stood. Reclaimed the illusion of calm. He _was_ Moonshadow, and good at that. “She was hard to argue with, Rayla,” he said. “Stubborn beyond belief, and always so _good_ it was hard to dispute what she was saying. Always too willing to hurt for other people.”

It was okay for things to hurt. He should listen to that. From her. Not without reason, but there was _very_ good reason in this case. He was okay. He could take it. Not like it, no. The past could hurt. Temptation and ruin. The spectral Viren had made Ez and Aanya both cry, and he had had to tell them they could not be there for the demonstration to the delegates. It would have failed if he knew it would hurt Ez.

Whatever had happened to Rayla had already happened and wouldn’t change. All the possible things that had happened to her was _already_ in his head.

It wouldn’t be as bad as it was in his head.

And if it was, he could take it.

She had.

“Historia Viventum!”

Claudia stepped towards Rayla, trapped in spectral roots.

The wind followed, it had shifted, he just hadn't noticed until now. It was blowing outward now.

Towards the illusion Rayla, struggling at the cliff's edge.

Towards the ocean.

* * *

Callum’s arms and shoulders ached. His heart ached.

But he kept flying.

The things Historia Viventum had shown him were spiraling in his mind, forcing themselves into focus unbidden.

_You’re stalling, elf._

She _had_ been stalling. She had _tried_. Desperately tried. She had not jumped off that cliff, she had been pushed, as she was _stalling._ Fighting _against_ it.

He could not afford to think about it though. Not now.

He had the Earthblood apparatus that would hopefully still work as he got further out over water. Ethari had assured him that even 10 miles out from the hill where he had shot the arrow from, it would be less than a mile off, assuming a maximum of 5 degrees of inaccuracy in the trajectory. The man’s ability to do trigonometry in his head was just slightly scary, but he definitely trusted Ethari’s math abilities much more than he trusted _any_ of his own cognitive faculties right now.

_Influence? That’s a really weird way to pronounce love._

Claudia was… so far gone.

This would work. He needed to zigzag a to scout out the islets. He needed to do that anyway because at some point not too far off, he would need to refill his flask. He should done that back on the mainland, but he had not really been inclined to spend time looking for freshwater.

_I have a friend who would very much like to meet him._

He was more like twenty miles out now. Meaning more inaccuracy. Meaning needing to scout further off the projected course. Which took longer. But he needed to do it. Needed to find her.

_…you’ll fall. Like my father did. But unlike him, no one will find you._

But he would.

It would work. Because it needed to. He would find her.

_Your kind will fall. Aaravos will rise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the second-to-last chapter of season 4! The story will continue, no worries, it's completely continuous.
> 
> This was a difficult chapter to write, because it's kind of a transition chapter. I'm still a bit iffy about it, but it's Tuesday :D
> 
> Prediction 12) There'll be an in-law bonding quest, either Ethari/Callum or Amaya/Rayla or both. Those pairings have so much potential. The quest will be about the thing they have in common (apart from personality), the other rayllum-half.
> 
> Up next: the S4 finale! Ezran and Zym arrives in the Earthblood territories


	17. 4.16 Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran and Zym arrive in the Earthblood territories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read, commented and kudos'ed, and those of you who've supported me and engaged with me on other platforms (you can find me under the same username on tumblr and reddit). Your interest and feedback has been so overwhelming and I'm so grateful to all of you :)
> 
> Now, finale time!

5.16PM, January 15th, 0AB, Pantas, Xadia

It had been a long ride, but Zym was doing really well, and they had a good tailwind.

Ezran was freezing cold though, even his thick cloak and Zym’s warm body underneath him was not enough to shield him from the winter chill up here in the air with the wind whipping around him. It had been summer the last time he had flown to Xadia, and he was really starting to appreciate the difference that made.

But he was managing, and they were coming up on Pantas, the town Ethari had mentioned in his letter. That would have been where Callum would have started his search, since it was all he had to go on. So that’s where he would go too.

There was no hiding Zym.

He also… _shouldn’t_ hide Zym, because a human alone would probably not be well received. Ezran had been king. He knew a potential diplomatic incident when he saw one.

Landing on a dragon was not exactly… _not_ a potential diplomatic incident, but decreased likelihood of people attacking or taking him captive was definitely a thing, when you had The Dragon Prince vouching for you.

No hiding.

Bait would stay in his bag though, because he really _could_ hide him, and probably should. He had a feeling the picture he would present was already plenty weird, without additional identifying features.

So he, Ez the human boy, king of nothing, Bait the Undercover-Glowtoad and Azymondias the Dragon Prince, set down in Pantas town square.

He had to swallow his curiosity about this place, its low houses with sprawling plant life growing on the roofs… it just looked so cozy. Peaceful.

Because he was very much disturbing that peace.

There were people gathering around him, staring.

Muttering. Alert, but not… hostile. He didn’t think so, at least.

Wary, but that was different than hostile.

Ezran thought that him being as young as he was, might be an advantage here. Callum alone might have had a very different reception, old enough to be a threat, and with no dragon voucher-

But he should probably concentrate on himself right now, because more people were gathering, flooding out of their houses, some of them armed. No-one had _aimed_ those weapons at him yet, but they definitely had them.

Zym’s presence was throwing them off, they were kind of… waiting.

Actually, _confusion_ was probably, the most prevalent vibe he got from the crowd. So he supposed explaining himself was the first thing he should do.

Ezran stood up straight, and readied himself to address the growing crowd like he had been taught.

Enunciating. Clear and strong.

Not aggressive though. He had a dragon next to him, he had to remember that, that the things he said could be heard as threats even if he wasn’t king.

He should _ask_ for their help. And make sure that it was with no expectations and that that was communicated too, because otherwise it wasn’t really asking, it was threatening, when you where king or had a dragon with you.

“Greetings! I am Ez, from the human kingdoms. This is Azymondias, the Dragon Prince. We mean you no harm, but only ask for your help. We will leave in peace, and hope you will grant us the same, if you are unwilling to give it.”

There was no response from the crowd, although they were definitely listening.

A middle-aged woman came forward, unafraid. The others let her through, with slight reverence.

She approached Zym calmly, reaching out her hand. Could she… talk to Zym? Like he could?

“Azymondias confirms this.” She declared it to the crowd, loudly and clearly like he had. “The Dragon Prince came here on an important mission with this young human, Ez. They ask for nothing but food and shelter, and information, if we have it.” She _could_ talk to Zym like he could!

The woman turned to Ezran. She had strikingly green eyes, and even her hair was streaked with mossy green. And her antlers were all cool and windy, way cooler than Elf-Ez’s. “I am Aoife.” She said, pleasantly enough, but very cautious. “This town is not big enough to have a mayor, but if it was, it would be me. We are beholden to the Dragon Sovereignty, and will give you what you ask. I will arrange accomodatio-”

“Oh! Oh! DRAGONRIDER!” A boy a few years older than him was approaching now, a wide, excited grin on his face.

Aoife looked extremely annoyed in that held-back way, like Opeli when he used a bad word or stuck his fingers in the jam jar at breakfast. “Terry, I know you do not have school, but please find something to occupy yourself with, rather than disturbing our guests-”

“It’s okay!” Ezran assured her. “Zym and I really don’t mind so much, being disturbed.” He would like to meet an Earthblood elf closer to his own age, anyway. He turned to the newcomer. “Hi Terry! I’m Ez. But Dragonrider is also cool. You can call me that if you want.”

“No, I mean. I’ve heard about you. I met your older brother, I think? He was pretendin’ to be a Moonshadow elf pretendin’ to be an Earthblood elf at the time. And not pullin’ it off. At all.”

“Yeah, that’s Callum!” Ezran laughed, half relief and half… well it was just objectively funny, that. “Although to be fair, that does sound like it would be pretty hard to pull off.”

“I suppose.” Terry relented slightly. “He was kinda uptight though. You seem like more fun. And you ride dragons.”

“Only sometimes. I wish I could do it more.”

“Why only _sometimes?_ If I could convince dragons to let me ride them I would do it _all_ the time!”

“I have a job to do.”

“But you’re so little?”

“Still.” Ezran said, a bit regretful. He _would_ return to that job. This wasn’t… permanent. But for now, at least, he was just Ez.

“Are you lookin’ for moonberry crumble too?”

“Uh, you have some? I haven’t tried it, but Callum says it’s delicious!”

“No, I mean your brother’s moonberry crumble. Rayla.” Oh, this was _great!_ He already had _clues!_

“You know where she is?!” Ezran asked eagerly.

“Not even a little bit. I told Callum that, but he went off to find her anyway. He was pretty intense about it. I mean, if I managed to get with the girl who avenged Avizandum, I’d want to keep her too.”

“That’s not what happened! She saved Zym! This is Zym by the way.” Ez introduced the not-so-little storm dragon, reaching his shoulder now.

“Sheesh, fine.” Terry rolled his eyes. “Got the message. Anyway, hi Zym! He’s cool. Spiky. Friendly?” The dragon was happily nudging Terry’s face with its scaly snout as the boy patted his scaly belly.

“He’s friendly.” Ezran said redundantly. He should probably let Terry know at some point that this was not the case for _all_ dragons, and he should probably confirm the friendly part _before_ petting them. For now though, he reached out to ruffle Zym’s mane fondly. “I was his first friend, back when he was still inside his egg.”

Aoife’s eyes widened. Oops. Never mind that being friends with an egg could well be considered a bit weird… that was not even the worst of that slip-up. Although a fair amount of the elven lands preferred to think Rayla alone was the one to return Zym, it was reasonably well known, he had been told, that she had been accompanied by the prince and king of Katolis.

Terry had clearly either not heard that or not made the connection, because he was just chatting along.

Aoife clearly _had._

Ezran met her eyes, almost pleading. How could he ask… without confirming it, without risking more people overhearing? This was not just diplomacy, this was like… lying. Lying, but arranging the words so they were not _technically_ a lie.

“I’m… just Ez right now. And Zym is my friend. We’re… true friends. Azymondias told you the truth. So did I.” He had. Just not _all_ of it. “I have an important job back home.” All too true. “And we would be very grateful for your help. We really don’t mean any harm to anyone. It’s personal rather than political, why we’re here. My brother and his… moonberry crumble?... are missing, and we’re looking for them.”

He was _really_ not expecting it to work, Aoife was giving him Opeli vibes, and that was not reassuring. Maybe she would keep him here and send a strongly worded letter to Amaya or Zubeia about them? Or something even _worse!_

She was looking at him all… judging. Gauging.

But she nodded, in the end, although she did not exactly look happy about it.

Yeah, he definitely didn’t trust her to not send tattletale letters about Zym and him. But she was letting them stay, so that was good.

* * *

Aoife had somewhat reluctantly agreed for him to go with the boy, Terry, to spend the night at his and his mother’s house. It made sense, even she had to admit that, since Terry was the one with the information.

His mother had apparently not been at the gathering, Terry said she had probably been working, and that turned out to be true, as they entered one of the pretty plant-houses to loud banging noises. You had to go down a little stairway, into the earth, but it was bright and pleasant down there, light streaming in through holes in the curved roof.

“Mam!” Terry shouted, over the cacophony.

A woman, Terry’s mom, presumably, entered the small kitchen from what appeared to be an adjacent smith’s workshop. Her antlers were not all twisty like Aoife’s but poked up almost straight out of her wild brown curls.

“Hi mam.” Terry turned to Ezran. “This is me mam. Nessa.”

“Terry?” The woman, Nessa, looked… tired. She was not… _not-_ surprised, but definitely _less_ surprised than Ezran would have expected, to see a dragon in her kitchen. She sighed heavily, like Corvus when he resigned himself to more madness than his natural preference. “Terry, is that… a dragon? And a human boy? Here?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not weird!” Terry said hurriedly.

Ezran giggled. It was nice of him to try, but that was probably a lost cause, like when he had tried to convince Aanya that having a dragon in your bedroom was not weird. “It’s okay, Terry,” he said. “It’s pretty weird. You can say it’s weird, Zym won’t be offended or anything. We don’t mind being weird in my family.”

“Alright mam. It’s Azymondias. The dragon prince. And Ez. Not prince of anythin’, far as I know. And they’re here, which is… pretty weird. And they’d like to stay the night.”

“Just… _one_ prince then.” Now she did look rather stunned. “Good. That’s good.” Better _not_ tell this poor woman he was technically still the king of Katolis. “And Ez?”

“Yes. I’m Ez. Ma’am.” Ezran bowed politely, like he had been taught. She looked a bit baffled. So that was probably not how Earthblood elves did things. But she returned his smile, though a bit cautiously. That was universal, at least.

“Please sit down, Ez. You’re welcome to stay the night. Terry will get you settled in my workshop, there’s a spare bed in there. Will Azymondias-”

“Zym? He’ll be fine with me in the workshop, he’s a big boy now!” Ez ruffled Zym’s mane, as the dragon assented with that statement. “He’s not fussy about only wanting to sleep in my backpack anymore.” The woman didn’t seem like she felt pressured to accept him in her home, but… he wanted to be sure. He would rather sleep in the forest than make people afraid. “You’re not… scared of me?”

She smiled for real now, shaking her head. “You’re a young boy? And Azymondias clearly likes you. Takes all sorts to make a world.”

Ezran beamed at her, grateful. “Thank you! We won’t break anything! Zym is really good at not breaking stuff, he only scratched one chair a tiny little bit, the last time he stayed in a…” He should probably not say castle. “…human house.”

“Ah, you have met my son. If I was fussy about my furniture, I would not get anything done. Terry will take you wherever you want to go tomorrow.” Nessa offered, remarkably readily, on her son’s behalf. “He was suspended from school.” Terry squirmed under her disapproving glance. “He has an _abundance_ of time and energy at his disposal.”

Terry did not dispute any of that, but turned to Ezran. “I can take you to the campsite where I left your brother. And give you the direction I gave him. You’ll catch up before he gets to the burned forest, he was on foot, and you’re on dragon.” He was not on foot. But Ezran kept that to himself. That was a _very_ identifying trait about Callum, especially combined with the Moon Magic Terry already knew he had, and it was probably better that that information not be spread.

“Well then.” Nessa pulled her heavy apron off. “Terry, get tuber-scrubbin’. Ez? I hope you and Azymondias like tubers?”

* * *

Ezran tossed and turned restlessly in the foreign bed.

It was warm here, even without Bait’s warm body at the foot of the bed. Zym was sleeping soundly next to the bed, his tail and part of a wing curling up and around him.

Yesterday they had stayed in an abandoned lookout or observatory type thing, some Sky wing structure, isolated and almost impossible to get to, positioned atop a single stone pillar. It had been cold, even curled around Bait and Zym curled around him.

This was so much better but… there was also less things to distract you when you were full and warm and, objectively at least, comfortable.

The moon was bright tonight, its light flooding through the windows in the roof and dappling the cluttered workshop with silvery light.

It reminded him of Rayla. She was so strong when the moon was bright, she could carry him and Callum both, or toss him into the air and catch him like his dad would do when he was little.

* * *

The moon was bright. Warm against her skin.

Giving her strength but not enough.

“Back inside,” Volum snapped. “You realize _I_ can’t go to sleep until _you’re_ back in _your_ bed, right?”

“But he’s _coming!_ What if he can’t… find… this place?! I will go back inside, okay? I just…” Rayla’s grip on the seashell wall nearly gave out. The world faded briefly to black, not long enough for her to fall, but _definitely_ long enough for Volum to notice.

“Point made. Back inside. Now.”

“I just… have to-”

“Girl, you do realize you are only out here _now,_ by the virtue of my patience? You’re a tiny slip of nothing and cannot even walk unaided, I could simply throw you over my shoulder-”

A sob broke loose from her throat. The man wouldn’t _listen._ She was _trying_ to be sensible, but he had made his mind up about her and now he wouldn’t listen and wouldn’t let her explain. She had just ended up shouting and that hurt her throat and… and she couldn’t _breathe_ properly.

* * *

Ezran gasped against the pillow, struggling to breathe.

It abated though, after a while. And he was left with the quiet and the warmth and Zym’s slow breaths and Bait’s wheezing snores.

He turned his pillow over because it was all wet.

It was gross, a wet pillow.

Warm liquid in the bed really just… reminded him of when he was younger.

Callum was a good brother though, and would help him change his clothes and let him sleep in his bed and not laugh at all.

* * *

He was a horrible brother.

He hadn’t listened to Ezran.

He hadn’t listened to Amaya.

And Callum was… failing Rayla, now. His mind was racing, his focus waning. He was pretty sure he had not done a stellar job maintaining the course, because that was hard as it was, with nothing but open sky and open ocean to guide him most of the time and having to zigzag between the sparse islets that were the only thing to break up the blue.

He was just so _tired._

He had _actually_ fallen asleep while flying, a little way back, and had been jolted awake by the change in gravity as he plummeted. Rayla was _never_ finding that out, she would never let him hear the end of it.

The image of her face, brows knit and those beautiful, expressive lilac eyes narrowing, burst into his mind so vivid and so distracting he lost a good deal of altitude before he noticed he was dropping.

No.

The full truth, they had agreed.

He would tell her, if he got the chance, listen to all the shit she would give him- No. When.

When.

* * *

“I know, kid, he’s not so great with the listening, Volum.” Tarrel sank to his knees on the sand in front of her, where she was slumped against the outer wall of the giant conch shell that was her living quarters and her prison. “On a scale from ‘no-hot-green-morning potion’ to ‘whale peed in his bathwater’, how much of an anal sphincter was he being?”

A small snort of laughter escaped her, along with more tears. “…like… a soft two,” Rayla managed, although it hurt to even talk after all the shouting and she had coughed bloody sputum on Volum’s shoes which had not exactly helped her argument and she felt dizzy and too hot and shaky and just… awful overall.

Tarrel eased her to rest against him, much softer and warmer than the edges of the wall that had been digging painfully into her injured shoulder. Handed her his flask with the warm, sweet liquid she had learned came from the insides of the nuts in the giant palm trees that grew here. It soothed her raw throat. It did nothing for the way her chest or the rest of her felt, but being indoors, lying around doing nothing… that wouldn’t help either.

 _Time_ would help, which she did not have. Rest, she was told. But she was more relaxed out here where she could feel the moon and could do something, even if that something was a tiny thing, even if it would probably not make a difference…

“As long as you lie down and try to rest, I’ll stay out here with you as long as you want. But not in the rain, Volum _is_ right about that, you understand? But the rain won’t be here for many hours, I know the weather better than he does.”

“I’m not… I _am_ trying. But I really _can_ do this, and it’s not… I _thought_ about it-” That was… maybe the least eloquent thing she had ever said. The stress and the _urgency_ was messing with her already messed up head.

His large, warm hand touched the top of her head briefly, a gesture she didn’t know, but… felt.

“Tell me.” He said gently. “Take your time, too. Take break if you need to. I’ll listen.”

* * *

Ezran focused on the snuffling sleep noises.

His own too-rapid heartbeat.

He had to trust them. Callum and Rayla were… they were strong. Together they were, definitely.

Apart?

He was scared, and he knew… he was right to be.

Rayla was absolutely awful at taking care of herself.

Callum was a dummy. No good at being alone. He had only ever sought out solitude when he was upset and it had only ever hurt him more.

Callum was _powerful_ though, too. More than he realized. Amaya was right, he chose to make fizz and could make different choices at any time. Would, probably, now, because fizz would not help him, alone out here.

That scared him too.

* * *

“Your human boy… can _fly?_ _And_ track you with Moon magic?” Tarrel was not _doubting_ her, but… yeah. That was just slightly unusual skills for a human or indeed any _one_ person to possess.

“He’s not an ordinary human.” Rayla explained. “He has connected to the Moon and Sky arcana.” He was also a prince of Katolis, but one thing at a time. This was plenty outlandish as it was.

“Moon _and_ Sky. _Both_. That is…”

“Unheard of?”

“No.” Tarrel said, surprisingly, looking thoughtful. “The Archmage Aaravos was thought to have-”

Rayla’s heart clenched in her aching, useless chest. Her memories of what happened were fuzzy, her head hurt when she tried to concentrate, to remember, but-

_Your kind will fall. Aaravos will rise._

* * *

They were up against something unknown. There was so much they didn’t know.

How Claudia had known what she did.

How she had bested Rayla on the night of the full moon.

How Rayla could be dead, and then alive.

Where he was even going.

Where _they_ were.

King Ezran ought to _know,_ Opeli had said. Should be _informed,_ before making a decision.

He _didn’t_ know though. And he was not King Ezran.

Ez was… he was unknown too. Who knew what _Ez_ could do?

Not even Ez knew that. But he would find out.

That was… strangely comforting. Like strength inside that would let him stand up straight and not cry in the courtroom, but… without the anger that had made him a big jerkface.

The quiet and the warmth was comfortable now. The bed was comfortable too.

Very.

Ez breathed, deeply and slowly.

* * *

9.40AM, January 16th, 0AB, Wilderness outside Pantas, Xadia

Ezran was not… _happy_ exactly, but he was full and rested, and that, at least, made the not-happy feelings easier to handle. There had been no bread for breakfast, but basically everything else you could imagine. And no meat! He _never_ got to sit down to a whole spread of food with no meat. Being able to talk to animals tended to make you not want to eat them.

He even got food for the road, and cookies too. Strange elf cookies with no chocolate but instead nuts and spices. They were so good. Who cared that they were all weird?

And it was a nice morning. He was _doing_ something. Making choices that were his.

And Terry was fun, even if he did tend to blurt things out without thinking. It was nice that he was not treating him like a king. 

“I used to want to be an Earthblood elf.” Ezran said to Terry, walking slightly ahead showing him and Zym the way.

“Hey, you can pretend to be Earthblood-Ez if you want.” Terry offered. “I’ll play along, borin’ day anyway. Can’t be worse than your brother’s Earthblood impression.”

“Elf-Ez. He’s kind of… mean. My Earthblood elf persona. I don’t think you want to hang out with him.” His mission was to save Callum and Rayla and then hug them for a really long time. Elf-Ez didn’t do that sort of thing. Elf-Ez conquered. Reveled in the blood of his enemies. “I’m okay being just Ez. And… this isn’t really a _jungle_ , anyway.” He looked around properly for the first time, the initial slight, childish disappointment that it wasn’t the jungle he imagined wearing off, because the forest was cooler than anything he _could_ have imagined. More… real. Detailed. Alive.

It was sunny this morning, beams of the low winter sun casting dappled light through the morning mist. It was as magical as any forest he had ever seen. Like a painting, but real. Very real. When you looked closer there was always more.

More detail.

More life.

The trunks of the massive trees were not smooth bark, but vines, ridges, grooves, layers of texture and life. He touched one of them. It felt the same as it looked. Layers of overlapping life. Co-existing. More than that. Helping each other.

How come a tree and vines and fungi and bugs, none of it smart enough to think, could do what the human kingdoms could not?

Ezran placed his hand flat against coarse bark, careful not to squish the tiny, orange-and-blue frog that was making its way slowly upwards. Or at least, he thought it was a frog. He had never seen a frog climb before, but it was, patiently making its way upwards.

“Are you… high-fourin’… I mean, high-fivin’, I guess, the _tree?”_ Terry sounded incredulous. “Your _whole_ family is weird.”

Ezran grinned at him. “I know. It’s not so bad. Fitting in is boring, anyway.”

“Yeah, if I fit in, I’d be in school right now. So I agree. Wise words.” Terry nodded sagely.

“I know. Rayla said them to me. When I was little. Littler, anyway. It made me feel a lot better, because Rayla is really cool, but also weird, and you know? It was nice to know. That at least I wasn’t alone.”

“I get it. I say the wrong things, a lot. Me mam says I should think before I speak, but that’s really not as easy as she seems to thin- Whatever. I agree. Fittin’ in is borin’. Good talk, tiny dragon rider!”

“Yeah!” Ezran held up his palm to Terry. “High-four? Or Five? Or four-and-a-half? Or nine? Or nine-halves?”

“I wouldn’t know, I was kicked out of math class for drawin’ a picture of the math teacher as a skeleton when we were asked to provide an example of exponential growth.”

Ezran giggled. It was actually… not _wrong_ exactly. It was definitely weird though.

Terry high-foured Ezran anyway. He thought he would call it that. He was in Xadia. Only fair to follow the local customs.

Then he high-fived the tree again, gently. The frog had made it a little higher, patiently ascending.

He felt the little animal in his mind. Simple want. Water. Height, to get to the water. He was jealous sometime, that things could be so simple.

He knew what he wanted, to find Callum and Rayla, and hug them both really hard and for a really long time.

And cry. For a really long time.

He didn’t know how to get there. And there were consequences to the things he did, to find them. He hoped Amaya was okay. That Katolis was okay. Aanya and Ellis were probably okay, so he just hoped they were having fun together, Aanya really needed a bit more of that in her life.

Ezran put the thoughts away, because the choice had been made. Instead, he looked back at the frog, still visible above him.

“It wants to get to the little pools of water in the curved leaves, further up,” Ezran said, absentmindedly.

Terry looked at him, a bit suspicious. “I thought you’d never been here before? I mean, it’s cool. That you know. Or possibly borin’. If you know because you’ve spent your whole life doing nothin’ but readin’ books about frogs, then-”

“No, it’s cool.” Ezran grinned. He had thought it made him the opposite of cool for a long time. But no. It was definitely cool. Fitting in was boring, they had agreed. “I can understand it, the frog. What it’s saying. Like, not really, because it doesn’t speak with words, it’s not sentient. But I understand what it wants and feels.” He looked at Terry, a bit cautious. People usually didn’t believe him, just like that. “Do you… believe me?”

“Uh yeah. Your brother can do Moon magic, and you flew here on a dragon. I mean, I’d probably believe you if you said you were the long-lost, secret heir to the throne of some human kingdom.”

“Nah, I’m just Ez.” He grinned at Terry, standing a bit taller. “Or Dragonrider. That also works.”

“Yeah, I’d go with that last one.” Terry grinned.

Ez thought for a bit, his eyes following the tiny ascending frog. “Terry. You have the Earth arcanum? Right?”

Terry poked his own short antlers. “Yep. Last I checked.”

“What does it feel like? This forest? All this life, around us?”

“Normal? They’re goin’ about their business? Mindin’ each other.”

“Yeah! That’s what I mean! They’re helping each other! The tree and the vine… I’ve seen trees like this that were choked by vines, so there were only the vines left, and the hole where the tree had been.” Ezran stroked across the rough bark. “But this tree is strong and healthy. They’re not fighting. They’re holding each other up. Growing taller than each could do alone.”

“Yeah? Of course.” Terry looked like this was obvious. It definitely wasn’t to most people, although maybe it was to Earthblood elves. Maybe the ‘blood’ part meant something else, not the reveling-in-bloodshed interpretation he had gone with when he had conceived of Elf-Ez but… ‘life’. Word were weird and had second and third and many more meanings under the first one. Blood… it was… Life. Connection. Family.

Some unifying thing flowing through all living creatures. Even plants had it, the blood was just a different kind.

“But that’s what it _is._ What does it _feel_ like?” Ezran asked. This felt important in a way he couldn’t quite articulate because it was a feeling that didn’t have a word connected to it.

“Uuh. It’s a tree. It doesn’t feel. Not like we do. It’s not… _happy_ that it’s strong and growin’ well. It just _is._ ” Despite what he had said earlier, about not being great at thinking before he spoke, Terry seemed to be making an effort at that, his brow wrinkling. “It’s just… adaptin’. Growin’. It’s not _thinkin’_ about that - lucky! - it doesn’t need to. Because it fits with everything else. They’ve had time to get used to each other, so it’s… patient? Not _actually_ patient, because it doesn’t feel… but it feels patient.”

“How does it know? How hard to hold onto the vine? How much to grow so it doesn’t outgrow it or is left behind?”

“The Earth.” Terry _didn’t_ have to think about that. He knew. _Knew-_ knew. “You really don’t feel it?”

Ezran stomped his foot a bit. “I mean, it’s there? Nice and solid. Beneath our feet. I definitely feel it.”

“No. It’s _way_ beneath our feet. Way down. Like… not a rhythm. You can’t hear it. But you know it’s there, what the rhythm is, so you can follow it anyway.”

Rayla had tried to explain what moonlight felt like to her - soft and balmy warmth. What the starry sky looked like to her night vision - orange and purple shades lighting up the dark blue. It was not something she thought about, and it was not something he could ever see or feel for himself, so he had the sense something was lost in translation.

Callum had confirmed it, when he had connected to the Moon arcanum, that the explanation couldn’t really be understood, because it was like… trying to explain something to someone who lacked the thing needed to understand it. He had said _any_ explanation relied on a basis of reference, and was inherently flawed.

But Terry’s explanation?

It _did_ make sense to him. Deep inside him, deeper than words. Like the Earth that Terry had spoken of, the way he had said it, like Earth was meant to be capitalized ‘Earth’, rather than just plain ‘earth’.

Ezran pulled his boots off, ignoring Terry’s baffled look.

The ground was cold beneath his bare feet, every blade of grass covered in glittery ice. But beneath that… the warmth of the Earth, its core.

He felt it. And knew somehow.

Like Terry had said, it just was.

Maybe it had even been there all along.

Beneath the earth, there was the Earth.

And within him, too, responding.

The Earth arcanum.

* * *

4.07AM, January 16th, 0AB, Unnamed Islet off the Southern Coast, Xadia

Callum landed on the rocky shore, barely an island but it would do for the purpose.

Ethari had been too far away to contact for… a while.

So he would land, he would try to send a message to Rayla which would fail as the previous… seven? - he was not even sure anymore - had, and then keep going, over the endless ocean.

Just ocean, with only occasional islands made up of bare sand and rock. Tiny plants, barely clinging to life. No freshwater.

He sank down, his back against cold rock. The moon was warming him, and would for a few more hours, but even that just reminded him of her.

Her, wrapping herself around him like a blanket on cold nights, her skin warmed by the moon and him warmed by her.

And when he had first felt it directly, that warmth. It had been exhilarating in itself, and then he had looked at her and understood what she had tried to explain to him, and looked up at the moon they now both felt, and then he had kissed her warm skin and-

The tears were warm too, against his cheeks, but not for long. The cold night air turned them into chill.

It wouldn’t do. At all. He wiped his eyes.

“Nuntius!” Her fingertip against his. Moving in tandem. “A-Avem!”

No bird. No focus. Just more thoughts of her, bubbling up within him, forcing themselves to the surface from the depths they had stayed for days.

“Nun-” Her bright, triumphant grin when she completed the spell. Her luminous purple bird seeking him out, but far outshined by her smile.

It was pointless, because she wasn’t there, she wasn’t coming to his rescue, she was… she needed _him._ Wherever she was. She had not sought out him or Ethari, she had sent no messages. He knew her, and knew there had to be a reason for that.

She could be alone and dying on one of these deserted islands. Or she could be dead. She had been alive when Ethari had sent the arrow, but it had been more than a full day since then, and she could be _dead_ now.

He buried his head in his hands. Exhaustion was pulling at him, and despair right at the edge of his consciousness. He knew it would sap what remained of his energy if he let it.

Rayla was not here. If he started spiraling now, he was not getting out easily. But his brain had never been good about respecting his wishes.

Resting wouldn’t help. He was tired, _so_ tired, but resting wouldn’t help, it would just leave his head alone with his thoughts, which was the absolute last thing he needed right now.

He needed to get _going._ That was what he needed. But he needed to get the spell working, first.

But there was no response. His hand shook too much to even draw the rune, never mind his head being unable to focus on the necessary connection and his throat having closed up, unable to speak.

Head. Hand. Heart.

Mind. Body. Spirit.

His mother had said that. That was how you had to know something. And he didn’t have _any_ of that going for him right now.

His mind was reeling, his dumb head pushing the thoughts to the forefront he did not want.

His body was aching and shaky with exhaustion, with lack of food and water and rest.

His spirit, his heart… his Rayla… Was not here at all.

He drew his knees into his chest, hugging himself with his waning strength, gasping into the torn fabric of his trousers, scrambling for something real to hold onto. Some foothold.

But there was nothing. For what felt like a long time, at least. Nothing but his own thundering heart and insufficient, ragged breaths.

He didn’t know when the first drop of icy rain hit him.

He vaguely registered when it started to soak through his clothes, but he was weirdly numb, though he was sure it ought to be freezing. It blended into the nothing.

Nothing.

But then something.

Something touching him. Someone.

Rayla.

A tender touch across his cheek. A caress.

He looked up, into lilac eyes like hers, but tiny beads of it. Silvery purple feathers, shimmering in the moonlight. The little bird nuzzled his cheek one last time, then fizzled out of existence.

The feelings of its touch lingered, though.

 _Her_ touch.

The illusion took on the unconscious urges of its creator. Rayla had touched him for the first time in weeks.

He had felt her. He still did, in his memory. And he would again, very soon, for real.

He felt _everything_ suddenly, the world coming into focus.

The smell of the ocean, of salt. The warm moonlight, no longer melancholy but comfort and strength.

Not just some vague notion of thirst, of fatigue but his dry lips and his parched mouth and his slumped shoulders.

Not just some numb awareness of the rain and winter air, but his stiff fingers tingling unpleasantly as he clenched his hands, the stickiness and chill of wet fabric and wet skin, the annoying trickle of cold water down his spine.

Not just ache but sharp rocks digging into his sore ribs, his shoulder- and back muscles screaming, the sting of saltwater in the scratches on his face. 

But elation too.

Filling him.

Making none of the other stuff matter.

He stood up. It was easy, like he weighed nothing. The spell would be easy too, now. Now that he knew it would _work._

The light blue bird burst from his outstretched hand, flying off to tell Rayla that he loved her and he was coming and to stay with her as long as it could.

Callum followed, towards open ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for making it through all of season 4 with me! I really appreciate all of you!
> 
> I wrote season 4 and 5 as a continuous story, so that’s why the finale did not have the confrontation you might have expected. I viewed seasons 1-3, 4-5 and 6-7 as three stories, not seven. So the story continues :)
> 
> Predictions:  
> 13) Ezran, not Callum, will unlock the Earth arcanum. He has shown far more inclination in that direction that Callum ever has, and has the animal-speak ability already. The way I write, primal magic is about more than casting spells. I’d also personally rather see a narrative about expanding the human capacity for primal magic, rather than Callum the magical avatar.  
> 14) Ez will ride Zym. It’ll be awesome. Way better in visual media than in writing, haha!  
> 15) There’ll be an Ezran-focused finale in S4. S2 finale arc was Callum-focused, and S3 finale arc Rayla-focused 
> 
> Up next: Book 5: Ocean! Callum arrives at the Tidebound island. Rayllum reunion! Fucking finally, omg :D 
> 
> I will post a between-seasons intermission chapter on saturday, with bonus features, mostly to provide an overview of the plot and supplementary material. Next ACTUAL chapter is up next Tuesday as usual.


	18. Intermission - Bonus Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just between-seasons intermission, summing up the plot and predictions and putting the supplemental content like art and fics in a convenient location. There's some previously unposted content, like OC sketches, map and timeline, because it's not so spoilery anymore :)
> 
> Table of Contents:
> 
>   1. Chapter Summaries
>   2. Book 4 Predictions
>   3. Supplementary Art
>   4. Supplementary Reading
>   5. Timeline and Map
>   6. Book 5: Down Below the Ocean
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I thought I might as well share the summaries and prediction lists I have for my own convenience, in case anyone wants to find a specific scene or something. 
> 
> And then I found some unposted sketches and stuff, so now there this DVD extras chapter.

# 1 Chapter Summaries

  1. Prologue: Birthdays 
    * Callum and Rayla spend ~1 year at the Storm Spire, then leave
    * Zym is growing up, and misses Ezran
    * King Ezran is working hard and getting tired
    * Lonely Soren is not doing great
    * Claudia is sleeping in the bed she made and it’s not comfortable
    * Viren gathers Star primal components in the Midnight Desert
    * Amaya find traces of Viren/Claudia in Xadia
  2. 4.1 Breach 
    * Rayllum date on the roof
    * Intro to ideological split, argument between Callum and Ezran over Rayla and politics
  3. 4.2 Brother 
    * Callum and Ezran are fighting
    * Callum and Rayla discuss Claudia
    * Callum and Ezran reconciliation and Big Feelings Time
  4. 4.3 Goodbye 
    * Rayllum time
    * Callum teaches Rayla magic
    * Moon arcanum unlock flashback
  5. 4.4 Roadtrip 
    * Soren & Rayla bonding about trauma and bread
  6. 4.5 New Year 
    * Callum, Ezran and Amaya discuss the political issues
    * Rayla & Soren talk about their love lives
    * Claudia overhears and is not happy
  7. 4.6 Swiftly Past 
    * CSI: Katolis track down Viren in the past
    * Ezran angst about ruling and the state of the world
  8. 4.7 Worlds Apart 
    * Callum thinks about arcanum connections in humans
    * Lots of politics, Callum meets the other rulers
    * Callum and Ezran talk about sandwiches
  9. 4.8 Quietly Present 
    * Rayla and Soren bonding, now with Corvus as the only adult in the party
    * CSI: Xadia track down Viren in the present
  10. 4.9 Hot & Cold 
    * Physical Rayla and Claudia confrontation in the burning forest
    * Soren is captured
    * Verbal Claudia and Rayla confrontation on the cliffside
    * Rayla is pushed into the ocean
  11. 4.10 Flicker 
    * Ethari returns to the lotus pond and sees Rayla’s and Runaan’s lotuses are not sunk
    * Callum gets horrible letters from Claudia and Ethari
    * Callum flies off alone
  12. 4.11 Family reunion 
    * Claudia and Soren talk. A lot.
    * Claudia finds out about Callum having two arcana
    * Claudia reads Rayla’s letters from Callum and Ez
  13. 4.12 Mate 
    * Callum arrives in the Earthblood territories and meets friendly annoyance Terry
    * Amaya and Ezran are worried
    * Corvus is beating himself up and needs a cookie
  14. 4.13 Runaways 
    * Zym seeks out Ezran to get him to run away with him
    * Ezran talks to Aanya and Amaya about his worries about Rayla, Callum and ruling
  15. 4.14 Down 
    * Rayla flashbacks, memories and/or dreams
    * Rayla talks with parents and Runaan in limbo
    * Rayla wakes up at the Tidebound hideout, too sick to do anything
    * Rayla decides to not do anything
  16. 4.15 To 
    * Callum searches for Rayla in the wilderness
    * Callum and Ethari search together
    * Callum and Corvus catch up
    * Callum sees what happened on the cliff and flies off alone out over the sea
  17. 4.16 Earth 
    * Ezran arrives in Terry’s home town and stay the night
    * Ezran goes into the forest with Terry and connects to the earth arcanum
    * Callum is at the end of his rope on a deserted island, but Rayla finds him



* * *

# 2 Book 4 Predictions

  1. Callum will be torn between Katolis and Xadia, internalizing the external conflict.
  2. Callum and Ezran will clash over something important because we have not really seen that relationship tested yet.
  3. Rayllum will split up. Not break up, but physically separate for a while. Because again, it’s something we haven’t seen yet in the show. And they do such a good job compensating for each other’s shortcomings when they’re together, that this will test them in new ways.
  4. Callum will connect to the moon arcanum prior to the 4th season. Because I think he will, the show hinted that he would, but I don't think they will want the show to be ABOUT him collecting arcanums like trading cards. That would be a more standard chosen-one narrative that goes against what the show has shown so far. Narrative of love and all.
  5. Claudia will succeed in causing harm to a named sympathetic character. Because she has TRIED a lot, but never actually managed it, and I think she has to succeed at some point, or it’ll feel cheap. I’m pretty sure S3 will not be peak villainy for Claudia, at the very least.
  6. Claudia will be the “featured villain” of S4-5, like Viren was for S1-3 and Aaravos will DEFINITELY be for S6-7
  7. Rayla will fall off another cliff (it’s basically a meme at this point), but this time she will FIGHT death, not accept it. Because there’s still some unresolved things in regard to that character quirk of hers, in general throughout the show, and in the S3 finale especially.
  8. Earthblood Terry, which was some sort of vague teaser, will actually appear and be REALLY annoying. 
  9. Amaya will assume the role of regent at some point, because almost all her challenges so far in the show have been physical, and that will test her in new ways. And it opens up new interesting narratives since both her sister and lover were/are queens. 
    1. This also serves the purpose of freeing Ez up to do some adventuring, since I don't think the show will tie him to the court room completely
  10. Rayla will have a boss battle that will be an internal struggle against death. It’s central to Moonshadow philosophy, acceptance of death. And she will fight that acceptance and cast it off. Rayla has been doing a lot of physical fighting in the show already. And I see ‘nothing’ as the hardest thing of all for Rayla to do.
  11. Rayla will communicate with her parents/Runaan who are stuck in some life/death limbo. Cryptic and not knowing whether it’s a dream, because she will be in that limbo herself at the time.
  12. There'll be an in-law bonding quest, either Ethari/Callum or Amaya/Rayla or both. Those pairings have so much potential and I think the writers know it. The quest will be about the thing they have in common (apart from personality), the other Rayllum-half.
  13. Ezran, not Callum, will unlock the Earth arcanum. He has shown far more inclination in that direction that Callum ever has, and has the animal-speak ability already. The way I write, primal magic is about more than casting spells. I’d also personally rather see a narrative about expanding the human capacity for primal magic, rather than Callum the magical avatar.
  14. Ez will ride Zym. It’ll be awesome. Way better in visual media than in writing!
  15. There’ll be an Ezran-focused finale in S4. S2 finale arc was Callum-focused, and S3 finale arc Rayla-focused



* * *

# 3 Supplementary Art

Aged up character designs for this story:

And previously unposted aged up Ellis I forgot I did:

Wee Rayla from 4.15:

Earthblood Callum from 4.12

OCs that have appeared thus far:

Now only barely spoilery future chapter header image, showing the Tidebound Atoll

* * *

# 4 Supplementary Reading (in order of importance)

[Downtime in Wartime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774909/chapters/54421612)

The prequel to this story, a between-canon-episodes story, adding more character-focused downtime to the short seasons. Every chapter is a self-contained one-shot, covering one night of canon downtime.

It’s not necessary reading to understand this story, since it follows canon so closely, but it does provide the foundation of the character- and relationship arcs in this story, and is referred to occasionally. Chapters 30 and 31 are recommended reading, since they begin to set up this story and tie in most directly.

[Instant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25011817/chapters/60565150)

Rayllum-focused one-shots that flesh out the character- and relationship development that happened between the end of S3 and the beginning of this story. Some of them tie directly into references from this story, and ALL of them (except AU) take place in the same continuity as this story and expand on the character arcs.

[Sweet 16](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753340/chapters/59846782)

Extension of Callum’s drunk birthday from the prologue of this story.

* * *

# 5 Timeline and Map

Distances are not accurate, because I used the map on the website to plan the story, but then the much nicer book map came out, and I used that here. But it’s an overview.

Timeline for S4:

* * *

# 6 Book 5: Down Below the Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for making it this far with me! I hope you’re here because you enjoyed yourself 😊
> 
> See you in S5 on Tuesday :)


	19. 5.1 Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum arrives at the Tidebound island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read, commented and kudos'ed! I really appreciate all of you, I'd never have made it through S4 without you <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy Book 5: Down Below the Ocean!

6.59AM, January 16th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

It was _warm_.

Callum had been carefully not feeling _anything_ fully, for days, but he did now.

Had, since she found him.

And he felt it now, not just the radiant balmy warmth of moonlight, but warmth in the air itself, in the water and the breeze.

This was the place.

He had not been fast enough to follow the bird all the way to its exact end point, but he had seen the island it was heading for. And he had seen it and felt it even before he set down, that this island was different, circular like the jagged edge of a crater, the air, the wind, the temperature different.

Even the rain was abating a bit, as if in welcome, as he set down on the beach, making the light of the moon brighter, reflecting off the water and wet sand, lighting up the curving line of the beach.

There was golden light too, in the distance. Not moonlight.

Tidebound elves. Almost certainly. He had read that they could control the currents of the ocean to create the climate they wanted around their home. Ethari had said they were out here. And Rayla had died and she was alive now… six days later. It added up.

That was a very, very good thing, an incredible relief that Rayla probably _hadn’t_ been alone for all that time, but… he would need to think. He could not just barge in, as much as he ached to do that, he had seen a Tidebound harpoon in Lux Argenti and was not keen to experience it in person.

His meeting with Terry had taught him that trying to imitate an elven culture he did not know well to a member _of_ that culture, was not a good idea.

Yeah, this adventure had definitely been plenty disastrous _without_ it culminating in him getting harpooned for inauthentic illusory anal fins or something.

Moonshadow was best, he thought. If they were protecting her, it would be more believable this way that he was an ally to her. And if they had seen the message he sent, he would rather not explain how he had sent it as a Skywing elf _or_ a human.

So he made use of the moonlight. Drew the rune. Closed his eyes and concentrated.

Callum looked at his four fingered hands. Purplish tint to the skin. No hint of the sky runes on his arms. It would do.

He walked towards the light up ahead, along the moonlit beach.

There were odd, organic shapes, outlined against the starry sky. Like conch shells but enormous, the size of houses. And they were the _only_ structures resembling buildings here, and lit up from the inside, warm, yellow light dappling the sand and water around them.

And there was a lone Tidebound elf, standing outside in the drizzle, glaring at him, arms crossed, impatiently tapping his foot. Like he had been waiting.

Callum approached cautiously, tamping down on the impatience, the urge to charge past this man, or shout or… yeah.

No.

Rayla would never let him hear the end of it if he got himself harpooned because he couldn’t wait another single minute to see her. And she was _here_ to scold him for getting harpooned, and that thought almost made him laugh out loud with relief and he had to tamp down on that impulse too, because coming off deranged might _also_ get him harpooned.

He didn’t know much about Tidebound customs. But he was currently supposed to be a Moonshadow elf, and that probably excused some level of ignorance about the elusive and insulated Tidebound communities.

“Greetings,” Callum said, as calmly as he could manage. “I am Callum. My-”

“Yes, I’ve heard of you,” the man scoffed. “My condolences.”

 _Condolences?!_ He had been holding back but now the panic rose quick from the pit of his stomach and up through his throat. “What?!” he shouted. “Is she-”

“Would you turn down the drama nozzle just a little bit? Please? Your girl is fine.” Okay. Breathe. “Well, maybe not so much at _this_ particular moment in time.” BREATHE! “But she most likely will be, despite her own best efforts. ‘Condolences’ was referring to your choice of mate. If it was up to her, _she_ would have been out here, and not in bed where she belongs-”

“She’s here then?!” he asked impatiently, restlessness firing up his tired body. “In there?!” He pointed at the seashell houses, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “And you'll take me to her?!” And she was _not_ fine if this man thought she should be in bed, and he needed to _see_ her-

“Yes.” His heart soared. “And yes. She mentioned you. Frequently.” The man rolled his eyes in a way that reminded Callum eerily of Ibis, but without the pretense of politeness. “She was unconscious for days when she got here, and _still_ wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Unconscious?!” Callum asked, too shrill, panic rising again.

“She will be fine. It was touch-and-go for a while though. I am Volum, the healer who treated her, since you didn’t ask-”

Callum sobbed dryly in both relief and worry. _Touch-and-go?_ And he hadn’t been here with her. “P-please. I need to see her.”

“First, take that thing off, it’s insulting. Rayla told us you were human.” Really not having any luck with the moon magic. He was _not_ telling Lujanne about that part of this outing.

“You don’t have a problem with humans? I wasn’t sure…”

“Oh, you were wise to disguise yourself. A lot of people aren’t sold on that very young peace. But Rayla has some goodwill to spare, even out here. Even those who oppose the peace are grateful she avenged Avizandum.” Again with the avenging. “I will get word out that you are not to be harmed.”

“Thank you. Now-”

“I welcome your presence here. Firstly, a lot of the idiots here would probably benefit from meeting an actual human. I _don’t_ oppose the peace, as you may gather. And secondly, the girl is _your_ problem now, good luck with that-”

“ _Please_ , can you take me to Rayla?”

The man, Volum, _finally_ motioned him inside the shell-like structure.

Despite his aching arms and shoulders, despite the lightheaded feeling from too little food or water, despite the worry… the _joy_ overpowered everything else.

Because she _was_ here. She hadn’t seen him, she was looking down, sulking angrily in some sponge-like bed, no doubt having lost some argument with the healer that he should wait outside and not her.

Callum stood there as if in a dream, incapable of moving. He still wasn’t convinced it _wasn’t_ a dream. But no. It wasn’t. It was too imperfect, too… ordinary.

Dreams would have been one extreme or the other, either her _actually_ fine, running towards him on that beautiful moonlit beach, or her dead somewhere, or dying with him arriving too late.

Not this. Not her cheeks flushed with fever, her eyes glassy, dark bruises peeking out of her loose shirt.

His bag fell from his fingers and hit the floor with a soft thump.

Her face snapped up. Her eyes met his. 

She smiled, despite everything, bright and happy and as beautiful as he’d ever seen her.

She pushed herself up abruptly, with a pained grimace, staggering towards him, wavering on her feet.

He rushed forward, spurred into action all at once, catching her just as her strength gave out. Eased both of them to the floor, because he wasn’t overflowing with abundance of strength either at the moment.

He cradled her to him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He leant his head on top of hers, between her horns, and all at once lost a good deal of the tension that had kept him upright for days. It was _okay_ to let go now, even if it did mean getting tears and snot in her hair, the sobs tearing at him.

She was not fine, not even close, that was obvious, but she was _alive_.

Alive and unsacrificed.

He gasped against her hair, quaking with the effort of not crushing her to him with all his might, not giving in to the overwhelming relief. She was hurt though, and he didn’t know yet how badly, or how. So he held her as gently as he could manage, and it was good for his sanity that _she_ was pressing close, clutching _him_ with all _her_ might. Even if all her might was a lot less strength than she usually had.

The warmth seeping through his already wet shirt where she had pressed her face against him reminded him that he was completely soaked and getting her soaked too which was probably not a good thing, so he drew back to look at her, cupping her face with shaking hands, cold against her heated skin.

“Oh love,” she gasped hoarsely, her warm hand tracing his face, the scrapes along his jaw and cheek. Worry in her face, even though she had just failed to walk more than ten feet herself. “Are you okay?” He probably didn’t look great. He’d been awake for… a while. Had never even gotten around to washing his face after his less than graceful landing in the Earthblood forest.

“I’m fine.” He kissed her forehead, too hot against his lips. Brushed her cheeks, wet and flushed, with his thumbs. Grazed lightly down her neck, her shoulders, the left bandaged under the thin shirt, her arms, her hands. Some stiff brace at her left wrist. She was not fine at all. He was, relative to her, at least. But he should tell her anyway. They didn’t hide things, they’d agreed. The full truth. “I had a bit of a rough landing. Just scrapes and bruises though. And I’ve been flying for… maybe two days. I could use some water, I ran out yesterday. But I’m okay. Better than you, definitely. You’re not okay.”

“No, still working on that,” She quipped. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or incensed that the infuriating flippancy about her own well-being had survived when _she_ literally hadn’t. But she was being honest at least. “And it’s a long story once we get started. I’ll tell you what happened. _After_ you… eat and drink and… dry clothes.” She pointed to an assortment of items on a low table next to her bedding on the floor, including a white carafe and goblet.

He didn’t let go of her as he stood, but gently pulled her up with him. He wished he could have swept her into his arms, but his arms were aching and trembling and he didn’t want to risk dropping her.

He was loath to let go of her at all, but she was right. He _should_ eat and drink, and it was probably not hygienic or practical for them to be cuddling while he did that. One of them needed to be okay and it was not going to be Rayla. So he settled her carefully against the sponge so he could work on getting to ‘okay’.

It might have been a bit ridiculous to kiss her nose and cheeks and lips before he drew three feet away to undress? Rayla had definitely thought so, early in their relationship, asserting that they were _not_ to be the kind of couple who kissed each other goodbye to go to the bathroom. But she wasn’t complaining now.

He pulled his sodden clothes off, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor next to the bed. Drank greedily. Ate some tasteless kind of easily digestible ration bar thing, a bit like a dense dumpling but fattier.

Rayla was looking at him the whole time he was stuffing his face, a wide, happy grin on her face.

And then he was done with the things he knew he ought to do and could just… hug her and touch her like he ached to do.

“Rayla how hard can I hug you?” It tumbled out of him, simple and childish and selfish, as he pulled her close.

“No broken bones. So squeeze away.” Yeah, so that was emphatically not what he meant.

“Rayla, please. Not- not like ‘you can take it’ but so that it won’t hurt you at _all-_ “ Rayla could take a lot, and had, but he didn’t want her to have to.

Her gaze flickered a bit. “It hurts a bit… _now._ ” Oh. She looked up though, the plea in her eyes so intense he knew he would do whatever she asked. “But don’t… let go of me. Please.” _A little is okay,_ she had said, when _she_ was little. Maybe it was.

He didn’t let go of her.

His hands traced a path, some part of him ensuring she was all there, wandering up her back, her neck, the back of her head… a bump there… and stitches, he realized to his dismay. Lightly down her arms, a delicate touch until he got to the stiff brace at her wrist. “You said no broken bones?” If she claimed something along the lines of minor fractures not counting, he was going to _snap-_

“Just sprained. They’re overly cautious and apparently I ‘can’t be trusted to take due care’,” she grumbled. Well, at least the not-so-friendly healer had been an astute judge of character, even if he wished she had had someone with a kinder disposition taking care of her. She had been alone and sick. Alone and dying. Dea- No. Not thinking about it.

“You were very sick… I know you… drowned.” _Touch and go._ And she had been all alone here. He had literally been goofing around playing boardgames and building a Rayla-snow-elf with Ezran, while she had been struggling and dying.

“Yeah. I don’t remember all of it. Volum said my lungs were damaged by the impact with the water, and then I got some infection and that’s the main reason I was-” She must have noticed the look on his face because she amended. “- _am_ sick.”

“You remember what happened?” he asked gently, an unspoken assurance that she did not need to answer him right now. His mind was racing with it though. It was _far,_ out here. She must have been in the water for so long, struggled for so long-

“I fell. Into the water. Claudia pushed me. Off a cliff, like you said.” He tightened his arms around her as much as he dared. “It was cold. I hit some rocks.” She touched her shoulder gingerly. “Hit my head. I don’t remember all of it. I was in the water for a long time, think. But when I sank, I didn’t die. And I woke up here. I’ve gotten a lot better though.” Yeah, that was not the reassurance she probably thought it was. “A few days more, Volum said, and the dumb fever should have run its course and I should be well enough to get out of this sponge thing at least-”

“A few days is at least two, remember.” He was making sure this time. “We agreed. Majority vote was on my side.” Rayla tended to round down, when taking doctors’ advice. But the ‘mildly stabbed’ debacle a couple months back had at least won him this one.

“Yeah, alright,” she agreed, just a little grumpily. Even her grumpy face was a beautiful sight to him at the moment.

Callum laid back against the yielding, springy sponge. Exhaustion was hitting him all at once, suddenly, the relief seeming to have just sapped all the energy that had kept him going for days. Rayla’s head pressed rather uncomfortably against his aching shoulder, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

A little hurt really _was_ okay, sometimes.

His eyes drifted shut.

Rayla shifted a bit, next to him. Got something from the table.

Then a cool, wet cloth against his face. “I’m just cleaning you up. I can’t even see how deep these are for all the dirt you wedged in there,” she tutted, as she rubbed at the scratches at his jaw and temple.

It stung a bit, Rayla was more efficient than gentle, when treating injuries. And the slick soap he could feel probably did double duty as a disinfectant because its weird, alcoholic smell was making it through the exhausted fog.

He opened his eyes to look at her smiling face. “Rayla it’s really not-” She really shouldn’t be taking care of _him._

“Shush. I’m nearly done.” She wiped the soap off in a brisk movement. “It’s selfish anyway. You’d be way too dashing with facial scars. We would never get anything done.”

She nuzzled into his cheek. He nipped at her jaw, her ear.

Her warm hand stroked against his bare chest. He covered it with his.

Covered her lips with his too.

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat interrupted them.

The healer had returned, looking thoroughly disgusted with both of them.

Right. He was in his underpants and nothing else. He really couldn’t care less though, and for once, it seemed, Rayla was in agreement on that.

“I will take my leave.” Volum looked stern, like they were disobedient children. “No physical exertion. No mental exertion. No removing the brace or bandages. And you, boy? She is over the worst of it, and there should be no reason for this to happen, but use the com pipe-” He gestured at a small piece of pipe exiting the wall. “-to call for help if she becomes unresponsive for any reason, can’t breathe properly, fever goes up-”

To his surprise, Rayla giggled, although a list of the complications she might experience was not exactly the height of humor, to him. “Volum, you don’t need to go through a list,” she said, still full of out-of-place mirth. “Callum is… fussy. He has his own list, almost certainly longer than yours.” Well… yes. Rayla would just have to endure the fussiness for the foreseeable future, because he was not budging on it _now,_ when she had been so close to… been _past_ the point of death.

“What a delightful pair you two are.” Volum scoffed. _What a sarcastic asshole_ you _are_ , Callum thought, but did not say it, because the sarcastic asshole had also kept Rayla alive. “As I was saying, I will take my leave so you both can sleep. Someone emphatically _not_ me will bring you some real food in ten hours or so. I will be by in twelve hours to check on Rayla. Until then.” He left without another word.

And they were alone. For the next ten hours. He had had food and drink and Rayla, and there was warmth and shelter and a comfortable bed. It was almost too good to be true.

He was so tired it didn’t feel like tiredness anymore. Floaty and weird. Fatigue coming and going. Definitely going, now. He was not sleepy _at all,_ but bubbling with euphoric energy.

And there were… more things they should talk about.

“Callum?” Rayla spoke quietly. Hesitant. _Scared._ He positioned himself to embrace her from behind, his hand engulfing hers as well as he could with the brace in the way. He rarely did the spooning because the horns complicated things, but he wanted her to feel safe and for him to feel as much of her as he could. Her heartbeat thudded against his chest. “Did you meet… Soren? Corvus? Ethari? I got Ethari’s message yesterday, he was… he wasn’t saying everything but he was _very_ worried-”

“You don’t know? Rayla, your lotus sank.”

“What?!” She sounded horrified now, her near-shout rasping in her throat, her hand clenching in his. “It sank? And he saw? Is Ethari okay? I have to send a message to him, how far away is he-”

“Hey. Ethari knows what happened. I met him. And Corvus. They’re both okay. And they know I went to find you. Well, you found me in the end I guess.”

“You did meet me halfway.” She had calmed down a bit, her hand had stopped clenching. “Or more like… 97 percent of the way.” She snickered. She was forcing it, he could tell, but… she was trying to not fall apart, same as him but in her own way.

“I was about to crash when you found me. It was maybe a short distance, but I was a long way away. You pulled me into the real world, where I was closer to you than I knew.”

“The bird… spoke? I barely could when I cast the spell, I wasn’t sure if the auditory part worked.”

“No, it didn’t speak. But you got the tactile part of the spell working. It touched me, and I felt you.” That was a lot harder than auditory illusions. “When did you manage that?”

“I didn’t know I had?” she wondered. “I think, maybe I wanted it badly enough. Maybe the feelings behind it…” Yeah, that was very likely.

Feelings mattered a lot, in magic. Feelings had let him soar from the pinnacle and grounded him on that tiny rock of an island.

“I practiced on Soren,” she continued. “Tried to get them to nest in his hair. It never quite worked out. He said he just felt vague flutters.” Her voice was small now. “Did you… do you know? Anything?”

“They wouldn’t-” But they might. They would have turned Soren into a fire monster. “I tried the message spell on Soren too, when I was looking for you, but either they were too far away, or masking their location against scrying spells.”

“They weren’t masking against this one.” Rayla said grimly. “That’s how we found them. I sent a bird to poop on Viren. Sorry. Because that means that if they weren’t, they probably are now.”

“Maybe not. Claudia sent me a letter. They _want_ me to come. But they want me to come scared and unbalanced and alone. And that’s not what they’re getting.” Despite the gravity of the situation, and the consequences of that poop message, mirth bubbled in him at what she had said. He kissed the back of her neck, unable to hold back the laugh that rumbled through him. “You sent a bird to drop illusion poop on Viren! Rayla! I’m so, so proud right now! I may have taught you that spell, but you took it to the next level!”

“It probably wasn’t tangible bird poop.” Rayla sounded slightly regretful. But he could hear the little wry smirk in her voice.

“Hey, maybe it was! If you wanted it badly enough, remember?”

That did not have the cheering effect on Rayla he had been aiming for. When she spoke, her voice was tight, the levity gone. “Oh, I wanted it badly enough. Soren… told me about him. I thought about what he had said, when I send Viren the poop message. I wanted it.” There was tension taut in her body now. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for Soren. He bet his life that Claudia wouldn’t hurt him. Quite a bet, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“But he was right?”

“Yes. She sent her fireball into the sky instead.”

It just meant she would not hurt Soren. Nothing else. Certainly not that she was redeemable or could be reasoned with. And she could definitely not be reasoned with by him or Rayla. Callum had very limited faith in _his_ ability to reason with _her._ But it was important. It meant Soren was almost certainly still alive. And they could get him back.

“Callum. I… might have cuddled with Soren,” Rayla continued, sounding more thoughtful than anything. The complete lack of guilt in her voice assured him more than anything that this was not anything to get riled up about. He trusted Rayla with his life and his heart, he most certainly trusted her to cuddle with a handsome blond. “A bit. Depends on your definition of cuddling. We were just us, a lot of the time, Corvus was scouting ahead a lot. It got a little bit… intense. Platonic intense though! Deep. Big Feelings Time. Hugs. Ugly crying.”

He laughed harder than he had about the poop message. The thought was both funny and heartwarming, and after what he and Rayla had gone through, completely unthreatening. “That’s… okay. I did say you could. I’m glad you got along.”

“We _did_. It was a bit weird.”

“Weird can be good. Like being pressed up against your hind quarters.” Callum grinned, pulling himself a bit closer to said body part for emphasis, remembering a very awkward Shadowpaw ride in the midnight desert.

“Wait. ‘Hind quarters’? I hope that’s not going to be your new Ezran-friendly word for my ass. It’s worse than butt. You realize he’s almost 12 years old, right?”

“No!” That was a horrifying prospect. Ezran did not need to learn anymore synonyms for that body part. ‘Butt’ would do him just fine for years to come, thank-you-very-much. “It’s just this guy I met, getting here. He used that word for your… ass.” He really did not know what was so wrong with the word butt.

“And _why_ were you discussing my ass with random guys you met?” She did not sound perturbed in the slightest, just amused.

“Maybe that’s just how I roll when I’m on my own,” he quipped, even though he knew he hadn’t ‘rolled’ at all when he had been on his own, he had plummeted. They needed this, feeling normal. “Me and the boys, hanging out, drinking the whisky, smoking the smokes, talking about asses and weapons and things.”

“That sounds very in character for you, yes.” Rayla snickered. “Except replace ‘the boys’ with ‘one 11-year-old boy’, ‘whisky’ with ‘milk’, ‘smokes’ with ‘jellytarts’, ‘asses’ with-” She cut off because her chest shook, with coughs this time, not laughter.

He helped her up, as she coughed into her hand, stroking her back through the thin shirt until she stilled, slumped against him, gasping for breath.

There was red on her palm. 

“You don’t have to do that,” she muttered against his shoulder, as he cleaned the unsettlingly _red_ mucus away. “It’s pretty gross.” She sounded hoarse. Tired. And pretty half-hearted in her assertion.

He tenderly brushed away a strand of hair clinging to her sweaty cheek. “You wiped away my sleep crusties two weeks into our relationship. Or negative-one week into our relationship. Depending on how you see it,” he reminded her. “There was blood in it. That can’t be good. I really think I should go get-”

“I’m okay. Volum said that I needed to cough up the rest of the bad stuff. And let my lungs heal. But that my body mostly stopped making the bad stuff, so it’s okay.” It definitely wasn’t okay. Any of it. “Hey,” She twisted slightly in his grip to look at him, smoothing out the furrows in his worried brow with her fingers. “No derailing the good things because of a little bit of a bad thing, remember? I still need an explanation for the hind quarters thing.” She smiled, tired and pale but… happy, alive, beautiful and warm and here and making things easier and better and lighter. A lot of good things really.

He breathed, deep and deliberate. They needed things to feel normal even if they weren’t.

Maybe it made sense, that the overwhelming euphoria and profound upset battling within him could even out to something approaching normality?

Callum smiled. There really was… a lot of good things, right here. “Yeah, that does take some explaining, doesn’t it?” he admitted. “It’s nothing bad I swear. And you’re wrong about Elf-Callum, I totally forgot about that! You wouldn’t believe it! The butt-guy! He was a real Earthblood elf, straight up greeting me with ‘Oi mate!’”

“You’re right, I _don’t_ believe it,” Rayla said. Her voice was lighter now. Less strained. “You’ll have to elaborate there.”

“It’s kind of a long story. It got weird too, believe me. At some point, I accidentally ended up being a human pretending to be a Moonshadow elf, pretending to be an Earthblood elf.”

“ _How_ , Callum?” She sighed indulgently, not even sounding all that surprised. “How do you _accidentally_ do these things?”

“I honestly don’t even know anymore. Raw talent? I mean, you and Amaya seem to be in agreement that I accidentally seduced the assassin sent to kill my brother.”

“That doesn’t seem like a talent with a particularly wide usage.”

“Maybe not, but it did have a very specific and important usage.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly at her.

She rolled her eyes, but then winced, seeming to falter.

“No. And what’s wrong? Should I get the healer?”

“No dummy.” Her hand squeezed his. “I just have a headache. It’s not so bad anymore, but sometimes it returns with a vengeance. Like now.” She closed her eyes. “It’s okay. Sorry, I just need to shut my eyes for a bit. It’ll… pass…”

“Close your eyes for more than a bit, okay? Lie back down? Rest? I’m tired too. We can talk when we wake up.” She was not saying it, but she had hit her head, and he knew enough to realize her headache was very likely caused by _him_ , by the extended conversation and kissing and laughing and crying and general emotional upheaval.

He _was_ tired too. Granted, he couldn’t feel it right now, but he knew he must be.

He put his arms back around her as they laid down, his head resting against her back between her shoulder blades.

Rayla fell asleep almost immediately.

Callum did not.

* * *

Her breath was catching. Troubled, still. She was asleep but it was fitful, fevered.

It should not bother him _this_ much. She was sick, but she was over the worst of it. He had seen her sick like this before, the first winter they had visited Katolis she had caught some human bug that her body had not fought off easily. That had mostly just been annoying, because Rayla was the worst patient to ever exist.

It had certainly not made his heart clench like this _then,_ every time her breath rattled a little in her chest.

If she couldn’t breathe, like Volum had said… he could do it for her, manually pulling air in and out of her lungs. He was a Sky mage, he could do that. But if he was asleep he _couldn’t_.

He should let go. Believe she would really be okay. He knew he _should_ do that.

He stroked across her arm, again and again. Lightly. There was colorful bruising peeking out near the neckline of her loose shirt. Probably more he couldn’t see, from the way she had laid down, carefully positioning herself.

He pressed close against her back, feeling more than hearing her heartbeat against his ear. The rattle in her breath.

He breathed deeply and unhindered, unlike Rayla. And drew the rune against her back. He didn’t need to say the words anymore, for the simple sky spells, just think them. The fact that they were indoors was the only challenge, but Ventus Spiralis drew power from your own breath, mostly.

She breathed a bit easier, he thought. Was pretty sure. Or maybe he just felt better having tried to do _something_ for her. But she still twitched and shook in her sleep. The back of her shirt was damp. Her skin was too hot.

Ventus Spiralis wasn’t really meant for that. It would make sure the air she breathed was clean and good, it wouldn’t do anything for the lingering infection or the damage keeping her from getting a proper deep breath. There was another one he could try, meant to expand congested airways. That would wake her though, and it was not comfortable for the recipient, so he had never actually tried it out for real, and he sure wasn’t about to try it for the first time on _her._

Callum fell into some stupor, if not actual sleep. He _wanted_ to let go. His body and mind were screaming for it, tense, aching and exhausted.

Then a sharp intake of breath. A change in her. Conscious now, her breaths deliberate, trying to steady herself.

He stroked lightly down her arm, the brace was in the way of her hand and wrist so he settled for caressing her fingers. Kissed the sweaty back of her neck, her shoulder, very lightly.

“You were already awake,” she muttered, sleepy admonishment, but getting more awake as she spoke. “You need to _sleep,_ Callum-” Her words were cut off by a groan as she turned to look at him, apparently having forgotten some sore spots.

She sat up instead, and scrambled unsteadily over his legs to move to his other side.

So she couldn’t sleep on her left side, was what she was not saying.

When she pulled the damp shirt off, he could see why, the bruising and torn skin at her shoulder and upper arm, not all of it covered by the strange greenish bandages. It had been bad, he could tell, even fading as it was now, it was spreading down her ribcage.

He reached out to brush his fingers against an unbruised stretch of skin.

“You hit some rocks,” he reiterated what she had said earlier. But faintly questioning.

It was not _all_ rocks. Lines of bruising, most already fading, but with the context of what his spell had shown him, it was clear what they had been since he had seen the roots wrap around her. Seen Claudia clenching her fist.

“Yeah, but I was lucky my thick head took the brunt of it,” she snickered, as she retrieved a dry shirt, spreading out the damp one on the floor next to the sponge. That was the opposite of lucky. But he supposed she was. And so was he.

She laid back down on his other side, turned to him now. He couldn’t feel her breath and heartbeat anymore. Maybe that was good.

It shouldn’t be something you thought about, really, breath and heartbeat.

Those things should be a given.

But they weren’t anymore, they had stopped, her flower had sunk-

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will his dumb head into cooperation. She needed to _rest_ not mollify his worry. And _he_ needed to rest, not worry.

“Hey.” Her hand wandered into his hair as she spoke, her forehead bumping very lightly against his. “What’s inside that head of yours?”

“Fear,” he said. He would never actually lie to her. “I _know_ you’re right here and you’re not dying, but-”

She curled around him, her arm cradling his head, her cheek against the top of his forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Promise. I might be asleep, I seem to sleep a lot these days… but I’ll be here.” There was annoyance in her voice. And self-recrimination. For _sleeping._ When she was sick and injured and had been through hell. That… nagged at him. It was _hard_ for Rayla to cut herself any slack ever, but-

“You’re allowed to sleep, Rayla,” he said. “You’re allowed to not be okay yet. Even if there are people who need you to be okay, even if _I_ do… it’s okay if you’re not. You’re allowed to do nothing for a few days, without feeling bad about it.” Doing nothing was not her strong suit.

“I’m trying. I really am. I wanted to go back to the shore, when I woke up here, to look for Soren and Corvus, and to send word to you and Ez.” Of course she did. She hesitated, but continued. The full truth. They had agreed. “I insisted. Repeatedly. That’s why Volum dislikes me- well, part of it. And how I sprained my wrist… I fell. Well, it was already a bit messed up-” _Claudia clenching her fist. Rayla whimpering in pain. The blade dropping from her fingers._ “-but I definitely made it worse-”

“Rayla, please tell me you didn’t-”

“No. I didn’t. That’s the point. Okay? That was _hard._ That was harder than throwing myself off that mountain. Claudia taunted me about you, I knew she was going to try and lure you here. I really, _really_ had to trust you’d be okay and not do anything stupid, and I’m sure you have the self-awareness to realize you don’t make that easy.” Yeah, so… oops? He really didn’t have a good defense for that one, and he hadn’t even told her yet, of the full extent of the dumb choices along the way to getting here.

He was incredibly, immensely grateful though, that she _had_ trusted him. That she had stayed down and stayed safe despite her natural inclination to do anything _but_ that. “I know,” he said, slightly muffled against her neck.

“So you have to do the same now. Trust me. I know… _I_ don’t make that easy either, when it comes to… me.”

 _Easy_ had really never been in the cards for them.

That really _was_ okay, too.

Together it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, this got long, there was sooo much catch-up AND emotional fallout. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Up next: Callum and Rayla wake up to a new day, and Amaya finishes her first day as ruler


	20. 5.2 Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Rayla wake up to a new day and Amaya finish her first day as ruler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read, commented and kudoses this story so far! Last chapter was one of those chapters I accidentally hyped up, and was then nervous about being a let-down, so I'm so happy people were happy :)
> 
> This is ANOTHER super long chapter. I really want to get chapter lengths down. I can't keep up a chapter a week when they're this long, so I may err on the side of shorter chapters going forward. It's why it's so late, too, that and me having the longest day ever.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

5.57PM, January 16th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Callum did wake first, even tired as he was. There were light coming through the shell now from outside, the low winter sun preternaturally warm here on the island.

Rayla was resting peacefully against him, her breathing calm now. The orange light of the low sun was reflecting off her hair, off the planes of her face, her lashes.

Her hair was mussed and damp with sweat at her nape. There was still that unnatural flush of fever, high on her cheekbones. Dark circles under her eyes. Stubborn lingering bruise near her eyebrow.

She looked like this _now_ , and he had _missed_ the worst part. She had been dying, and she wasn’t, now. She was not okay though, and she was going to go back into danger, whether she was okay or not, and that thought made his heart clench.

But even asleep, Rayla could pull him out of his own head, because she wrinkled her nose in her sleep and it was the cutest thing ever and reminded him that he had _missed_ her. So much. And now she was here.

He watched her, for a long time, content.

Content to stay here, in this moment where she was in his arms and not in danger or in pain or coughing up blood or-

Or nothing, because she wasn’t, and he was _staying_ in this moment.

He had to get used to it again, her in his arms. For weeks he had woken up and unconsciously fumbled for her before remembering she was far away and in danger. Then he had received that letter and barely slept at all. Even if she was not okay, this was so much better than his worst fears. She was alive to worry about and to scold, which he was of a mind to do, if she was better. She had… gone alone. After Viren, who she was so afraid of, who had haunted her nightmares for over a year. And after Claudia who hated her. He realized both Soren and Corvus had also signed off on that plan, which meant it had probably been the best one they had had. Corvus was _not_ reckless and Soren had promised he would try to stop Rayla if-

No. He wanted to stay in _this_ moment.

Callum was also pretty content to not move for a while longer. A tentative stretch of his shoulders reminded him very pointedly and painfully of how far he had flown over the past days, his shoulder- and back muscles complaining about pretty much any type of movement.

Eventually though, he tore his gaze away from her to look outside, at the turquoise waters. It was afternoon, maybe? Or early evening. This place was fascinating. The Tidebound elves didn’t live _here,_ he presumed, but it was the only structure. His curiosity about this place hadn’t really been a priority this morning when he had arrived.

Now though, with the overwhelming worry about Rayla abating, the curiosity was returning. Maybe he could go find them some breakfast? Or dinner, as it were, considering the time of day.

Rayla twitched in her sleep, a tiny whimper escaping her lips. And oh look, the overwhelming worry was back with a vengeance.

She smiled though, happy and sleepy, when she opened her eyes and saw him.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asked, stroking his fingers across her forehead. “You looked like… maybe not quite.”

But she just smiled at him, snuggling into his chest. “Better than I have since I got here.”

That didn’t really mean much, was probably a very low bar-

 _This_ moment.

Callum got up, now he could do so without waking her. Stretched, which was satisfying and agonizing at once. He was still bonelessly exhausted and his body was stiff and achy, but it was different this morning. It was more a sluggish, sleepy thing now, not the overly tense, shaky, barely functioning he had been.

He found some dry clothes too, made of strange, smooth fabric that shimmered slightly like the surface of water. His own were still damp because he had dumped them in a pile like a barbarian, his scarf and socks the only dry items.

Rayla got to her feet too, with his help, leaning into him, but staying upright. He thought better of asking her to stay in bed because she looked so happy to be getting up, and at least he could carry her today if he needed to, the shaky weakness had left his body.

“Will you help me outside?” she asked. “I’ve pretty much been stuck in here since I got here. The moon will rise soon. I’d like to see it. With you.”

The early evening air was pleasantly cool, but not cold.

And amazingly, Rayla still let him fuss without complaining at all, when he wrapped his scarf around her neck. It was maybe, possibly, a bit overkill to fly just to ascend the twenty feet to the top of the shell-structure, but gratuitous use of the much-loved wings was not something she had _ever_ complained about.

This place really was beautiful, he could appreciate that now.

The sun was setting, painting the previously clear, turquoise water of the center sea with shades of orange and gold, throwing the silhouette of the palm trees into stark relief. There was some large, slow creature, waking up, somewhere below the water. When it ascended, he got a brief glimpse of spotted, faintly glowing skin, before it was gone again, the smooth surface of the water barely disturbed.

“That’s Mhara.” Rayla explained. “Their protector. She’s very gentle, Tarrel says, unless you attack.” She was very, very _big,_ Callum thought. He had never seen a living creature so large except dragons.

“There’s… things… we have to do.” Callum said, regretfully, his gaze somewhere over the water.

“I know.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s not over. Not at all. We know more, though. I got Claudia talking, a bit. She said some things. I’m pretty sure some of them were important. I’m really sorry, but… it’s fuzzy. The time before I fell. And some of the things I remember, like throwing the corrupted Sun staff into the sea… I’m not sure I actually remember, or if I’m just filling in the blanks, because I know what I _would_ have done.”

His fingers lightly grazed across the back of her head, along the edge of the area where she had hit the rock. “It’s okay, Rayla.”

“No!” She snapped to look at him. “No it’s not! It’s really not okay that I just went and _forgot_ things that are that important-”

“Rayla!” He said it very firmly, but his lips against her forehead and temple were gentle. “That’s _also_ okay! Even if it _did_ put us at a disadvantage, it would be okay and not on you! But it doesn’t. Because I heard. And remember. Every word.”

“Historia Viventum?” He nodded against her hair. “It’s… you saw,” she muttered unhappily. “Heard. _Everything._ ” Again with the worrying about _him._

“Well, you _lived_ it.”

“But I don’t remember it. Not clearly. Not like you do. And _will_.”

His memory. Yeah. A blessing and a curse, that. It had taken him a while, a long while, to distance himself from the memories on top of the Spire, Rayla going over that edge, because the memory was as clear now as it had been immediately afterwards.

He would have to ask her about ‘Aaravos’. Her, as well as everyone else he could think of. This time, they had to know what they were up against.

But for now, he wanted to stay in this moment, in the waning orange light and the sound of soft waves hitting the sand and Rayla safe and pressed against his neck.

They stayed up there for a while, as the sun set and the moon rose, bright barely-gibbous, only a day from half.

“We have a while, before the time I said I would meet Ethari.” Callum said, breaking the silence, the calm that was only there because they had elected to ignore anything but each other and the moment, which was… obviously not going to be feasible in the long run. “Moonrise tomorrow. So I’ll leave at noon or so, if I can arrange a boat.”

“Tarrel has one.” Rayla said. “He’s the fisherman who rescued me from the water. He’ll take you, I’m certain.”

“Where are boats even… moored?” Callum looked around. There was nothing that looked like any kind of… structure.

“Under water.” Rayla gestured at the shining surface of the sea. “Tidebound boats travel underwater as well as above. There’s a town down there, you know, if you want to see it. Whoever brings us food, Tarrel probably, because he said yesterday he would come back, can probably take you there, if you want-”

“But you’re sick.” She wasn’t going anywhere today or tomorrow, he was absolutely going to hold her to the most fussy and conservative interpretation of _few days_ he could get away with-

“And you’re not.” She squeezed his hand, reassuring. “I haven’t gotten to see much of this place, the… the town is underwater. In the center of the crater. I haven’t seen it, but you could?”

An underwater town! Under the crystal turquoise sea, apparently. Well, that explained why this place had seemed almost deserted. “I’ll wait.” He said firmly. “I’ll see it with you. When you’re better.”

“No!” It burst out of her, instinctive and instantaneous. That had been the wrong thing to say, because she trembled in his arms. But she took a deep breath, and calmed a little as he stroked her tangled hair. “Sorry. That was overly dramatic.” Yes, very dramatic, to have an adverse reaction to water, a few days after she had drowned.

It had been near _panic_ in her voice though. That wasn’t like her, panicking was _his_ thing. She was scared of water but never like _that._

He pulled her close, speaking softly into her hair. “Rayla. Please trust me when I say that I don’t want anything but you right now. Well, food would be nice. But really, basic needs like food, water and air. And you. That’s what I want. I was… Rayla I was terrified. Days on end of being terrified I would never see you again. I don’t think I can properly explain that you… you’re more than enough. I don’t need entertainment or a guided tour. I’m fine watching you sleep until I go get Ethari.”

She looked at him, cocking her head slightly and a familiar and supremely kissable smirk spread on her lips. “Soap.” She pressed close, her lips teasing at the corner of his mouth before she caught his lips fully. “That needs to go on your list too.”

They went inside where the soap was, because after a whiff of himself, Callum had to agree with her on that one.

They sat in some comfortable couch-like thing, made from the same kind of giant sponge as the bed, talking, while he washed himself thoroughly and brushed her badly mussed hair, very carefully, strand by strand, to not pull at the stitches at the back of her head. It had been a bad gash, he could tell. It would have bled a lot. It would no doubt scar. So would a few of the cuts at her shoulder, he judged, as he helped her change clothes and wash up too, taking a longer look at what Claudia had done to her.

Claudia had _hurt_ her.

Rayla’s small hands found his fists, clenched tightly. “Hey. The full truth. It’s no good, what’s inside your head right now.”

He breathed out hard. “I’m thinking that Claudia is not getting near you ever again _._ You know I never really focused on practicing battle applications for the spells I know? Well, I _will_. It’ll be a while until we seek her out and I’m a fast learner, you know that. Claudia doesn’t have that staff anymore, you saw to that. I have two arcana and she has none. I can _take_ Claud-”

“Hey. I’m _here._ You don’t avenge the living.”

“I did hear.” And read. And saw. The taunts, the cruelty. That horrible letter, that clenched fist... “She hurt you, taunted you.”

“Well, I gave as good as I got on that front, I’m pretty sure.” She put her arms around his neck, pressing close and making everything better and lighter.

He kissed her temple, a bit of mirth and a lot of fondness and pride, bubbling up within him, pushing away the anger. “Yeah you did.” ‘…go down mouthing off to the best of my ability’, she had said. That was her. His amazing girlfriend. And those awful things Historia Viventum had shown him, he had relived them in his memory ever since, but even there, Rayla had protected him and made it better.

There was the image of Claudia _smiling_ as Rayla whimpered in pain when the roots tightened… but also the image of Rayla, defiant as ever, telling someone who had her at their mercy that he had rubbed off on her. “You got her well and truly riled up,” he looked at her, proud. That had probably saved her life, making Claudia act in anger.

“You’re not upset?” Rayla asked. “I said some things… about… us. I’m pretty sure.” She was blushing a bit now, he could tell even with the flush of fever still in her cheeks.

“Ah, no. You care more about keeping those things private than I do. So I’ve tried to keep it private too. For you. But no, I don’t care who knows. I’ll never be anything but proud.”

“Do you… want to, I don’t know? Brag about it in the tavern? Talk about weapons and asses and things?” She was not completely joking. “It makes me uncomfortable, thinking of other people knowing about us, knowing what we do… together, but I know part of that is just some stupid tradition I can’t shake. I’m not… _ashamed_. Not like that. Certainly not of you.”

“I know that. I don’t need anyone but you to know how I feel about you. Ez already announced it from the top af the Spire, remember? I don’t need to shout it from the rooftops, as long as you’re here. I only need you to hear.”

She didn’t look quite mollified. “But… Callum? You deserve… all the things. I hope you know that. It’s a big mess right now, and so many things are all… up in the air. I’m not sure about anything, really. But I’m sure about you. And I want you to know, and I want to tell these elves who you are to me, and not be ashamed of it-”

“Hey,” Callum cupped her cheeks to look her in the eyes. She seemed… anxious, which was not usual, for her like it was for him. “What’s this _really_ about?”

To his surprise, she blushed, deep and all the way to the tips of her ears. Her beautiful lilac eyes didn’t look away though, her gaze, her feelings… didn’t falter as her voice did. “Callum? Be my intended?” Heat was rising in his face too, but he barely felt it, compared to the euphoria rising in his chest. “I’ll be yours!” She burst out, hurriedly. “That’s a given. When you ask someone.”

“Yes!” He squeezed her as tightly as he judged he could get away with as battered as she was. He had gotten a good look at her now, and knew where the worst bruising was, so he gripped her low, round her slender waist, lifting her off the couch and into his lap. Pressed his lips to hers, but only briefly, because words were bubbling up he needed to say. “That was a given, too!” He laughed, pure happiness. “I love you. And I’m yours.”

She kissed his nose and cheeks, before she found his lips and stuck around there.

It was a bit sobering that she was out of breath and he wasn’t, when they parted. She put her head against his shoulder, carefully because she knew they still ached from the flight, her breaths ragged against his neck, but her palm warm and calming over his rapid heartbeat.

“Callum?” It was quiet, but she was determined as she always was. “I… _won’t_ be your betrothed. Not yet. Because… there’s a bunch of extra… stuff… that comes with that. I need to face those human nobles who are gonna be all judgy. Face them before I’m yours, before I’m… Katolis’, in _their_ eyes _._ Face them as _me_.” She looked up at him, so worried, not wanting to hurt him, but she need not be. He already knew.

She had cried on her 17th birthday because she thought those nobles had found her wanting. She needed time, and they had that. Now. She was alive and going to stay that way if it was in any way up to him, and they were, as Opeli liked to put it, ‘very young’. They had time.

Being intended was different. There was no expectation on a wedding happening in any particular time frame _,_ and Rayla was not royalty, it didn’t bring the spotlight on him that betrothal would on her. Being intended meant only a public declaration that you were there to _stay._

He smiled. Kissed her again, long and tender. “I want you to. I want them to see you. You.”

“But you… you want to? Soren said some things... That you were enlisting his help to design our wedding invitations, back on your birthday?”

Oh no. _What_ had Soren said? “Maybe a bit. I was turning 16 and I was allowed to get engaged and drink and you know… I took full advantage of that second one. I… thought about it. But Soren rightly told me that I was obviously not in a hurry, being… you know… 16. And he was right. I’m not in a hurry. I want to stay with you. That’s it.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, into his neck. “That’s it.”

* * *

Rayla was still in his lap, well on her way to dozing off and taking him down with her, when a Tidebound man entered, not the healer, but someone older and stockier. Much, _much_ less sour-looking.

And Rayla smiled, sleepy but unguarded, when she saw the man, and didn’t pull away from him, and that was all he needed to make up his mind on him.

The man rested his hand briefly and gently on the top of Rayla’s head as he walked past to sit on the strange sponge furniture opposite them. It was strangely familial. Casual. And his smile was gentle too, genuinely happy. “I’m very glad to see you better, Rayla. And happier. I assume that has something to do with you.” He nodded at Callum, smiling. “Callum, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Rayla’s-” He smiled widely, tasting the word. “-intended.”

“Oh, you didn’t say, Rayla.”

“It’s new. Like… an hour.” Rayla snickered.

“…Congratulations.” The man looked a bit stunned. Very much not judgy or disgusted though, which was nice, for the first reaction. And then it sank in properly and he smiled widely, looking genuinely happy for them, which was definitely not likely to reflect future reactions, but at least the first one was good. “I’m sorry the food is so ordinary! I should have brought something more celebratory.”

“That’s okay!” Rayla laughed, although she did also give him a distinctly admonishing stare. “Callum hasn’t had proper food for days, I’m pretty sure it’ll _taste_ celebratory to him.”

“Shit! Eat, kid! Don’t hold back on my account.”

Callum abruptly had containers of fish stew and what looked a bit like strangely transparent noodles shoved at him, and was soon intensely focused on stuffing his face, because it very much _did_ taste celebratory.

The noodles were apparently a type of edible seaweed, according to Tarrel. More than edible, really, they were delicious, all of it was. Some flavor like garlic but more smooth and aromatic. Warm and savory.

“You’re the one… who found her? Tarrel?” Calum asked, as the hunger abated enough to let manners have a turn at the table. “Thank you. So much. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am. Anything I have the power to give you, I will. And the healer, too.” He was a prince. Privileged.

But Tarrel shook his head very definitely. “I need nothing. No decent person would leave a kid to die. And don’t bring that up with the healer, it is his duty to do what he does, it would insult him, and no-one wants that, his mildly-peeved face looks like a catfish-butt and throws of the atmosphere of entire atoll, it’s uncanny.”

Callum had no idea what a catfish _or_ its butt looked like, and he still snickered into his food. This man had clearly attended the Ezran Academy of Tension Relief.

Rayla was already flagging by the time they had finished their meal. She was tired enough that she didn’t even make a peep when he lifted her into his arms, merely sighed, snuggling into his shoulder.

He settled her carefully against the spongebed. She made such a cutely pathetic mewling sound when he drew away that it almost made him ignore the stranger looking right at them and get into bed to cuddle up to her.

But that seemed rude, for one, and Rayla was also not in a state to protest, already slipping into sleep, and he didn’t want to push it, when they had _just_ talked about this stuff being hard for her. He settled for gently stroking her face and hair until she was all the way asleep.

Then he went back to the couch, because Rayla’s savior was still there. And also, the food was there. He could definitely eat more. Now he had started eating, it was really dawning on him how hungry he had been and for how long.

“How _did_ you find her?” Callum asked Tarrel, around a mouthful of the seaweed noodles. He both wanted to know, and didn’t.

“We have a spell that sends out a kinda invisible wave, moving outwards, that is then reflected back. It lets us locate sea creatures underwater. I was fishing for sand skimmers at the sea floor. And the wave I sent out sensed her at the surface, a good way away. I didn’t pay it much mind, because I thought she was one of ours, just swimming or something. But then she sank, and went… limp. And I sensed _that_ , and that’s when I put on my speedy-fins. You owe me no thanks.”

“Yes, I do. I really, _really_ do.”

The man looked bashful, but did seem to accept it. “You can thank me by being good to her, lad. That kid’s been through an impressive barrage of liquid shit.”

“I know.” Callum said quietly. She really had. So much more shit than she deserved.

Tarrel seemed to pick up on that rather unpleasant mind-tangent, because he gently touched his shoulder to get his attention, his dark eyes knowing when Callum met them. “How did you two meet? I mean, you can’t blame me for being curious, here?” And that was a very intentional distraction. A good one, too.

Callum grinned. That _was_ a much happier topic, even if that story hadn’t exactly been devoid of liquid shit barrages either. “That’s… a long story. It wasn’t really… planned, as you might imagine. The short version goes that we went on a journey from Katolis to Xadia, to return Azymondias to his mother. And then, on a boat, ten minutes after she’d barfed and as I was going off to electrocute myself on the off chance it would teach me Sky magic… she realized she wanted to smush my dumb-idea face-”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard tales of the dumb idea face.”

“All too real, I’m afraid.” The whole trip here really was… not exactly a triumph of common sense and sound decision-making. “Well, then a few dragon-related acts of heroism on her part later - you’ve met her, so you will realize the plural is no accident here - I realized _I_ wanted to smush _her_ ridiculously-pretty hair-trigger-for-self-sacrifice face…”

“And then you got together?”

“Wow, nooo…” Callum snickered. “We’re both idiots.”

Tarrel snickered. “Yeah, I gathered as much. At least you’re self-aware?”

“ _Now,_ we are. Because we tell each other when we’re being idiots.”

“That does put you ahead of most of us.”

“Thank you.” Callum said, with feeling. “For… sticking around.” Rayla had been _comfortable_ with him, and he saw why, and he was immensely grateful that she had had someone around to be kind to her when she had certainly not been kind to herself.

“Ah, I just stuck around to make sure Volum wasn’t being too much of an anal sphincter to someone who was already down. He’s not really representative of the Tidebound temperament, he’s just an asshole.”

Callum laughed. “Yeah, humans have those too.” He liked this man. He was not ever getting within hearing distance of Ezran, true, but-

“Not surprised.” Tarrel shrugged. “Part of basic biology, assholes.”

* * *

5.43PM, January 15th, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

_Asshole!_

It was probably a good thing that that delegate did not understand sign language, and that Gren elected to not translate it.

Amaya was bare even one day into ruling, and already, she had had more than enough of it. She was not… _good_ at this. Whatever… _this_ was.

Diplomacy?

Pretending?

Putting up with idiots and assholes?

But neither was Janai, she reminded herself, and she had done it anyway, for more than a year. So had Ezran, and he was 11 years old. She could not even complain about it. At least Janai would probably arrive tonight, and she could be as grumpy and petty as she wanted, Janai could take it.

She could take the worry too. That was a much bigger feeling.

There were more people to meet.

More things to do she was not good at.

Her handwriting was really not very nice. She had somehow made it to age 35 without giving much thought to that, but now it was suddenly very obvious, when offset by the thick, fancy, gold rimmed Katolian stationary, and with the seal of the crown beneath it.

At least Gren _was_ good at diplomacy. He had been doing a lot of it over the years. And Opeli assumed some administrative duties, which was very nice of her.

And eventually, the first, very, very long day as ruler, was over.

It was an incredible relief when the door to her chambers shut behind her and Gren.

Well, not quite, because the child Queen of Duren was smiling at her from an armchair.

“Lady Amaya.” Aanya said, nodding politely.

Amaya breathed deeply. So the day was _not_ over, then. _Queen Aanya. How may I help you?_ she signed, Gren translating.

The ruler of Katolis was a servant. She did not agree with everything Harrow had said, but in that they were aligned. It was her duty to serve, and if the need was there then her day was not over.

“I thought I might help _you?”_ Aanya said, smiling lightly.

 _Oh?_ Amaya raised her eyebrows at her. She was not in the mood for games or sass from some kid, regardless of her titles. _You could not have helped by talking my nephew OUT of flying off on a dragon instead of encouraging it? His mind was VERY made up by the time he spoke to me, you know._

“No. I have a duty too, to my friend.” Aanya looked completely unrepentant, defiance that reminded her of Rayla when she dug her heels in, clear on her face. “Ezran was… he was not himself. For a long time. He needed to leave. It’s _hard_ , holding onto your ideals when you’re faced with the realities of the world every day. Ramming your head against people like the ones you dealt with all day.”

 _YOU did._ Amaya reminded her. _WITHOUT going on an extended dragon ride into a foreign nation._

“Yes. And that was not easy. And I am less sensitive than Ezran, I think. And I have been queen for a decade, I have had time to learn and to get used to how things are. You have been queen for a day, now. If you do not yet understand, then give it time.”

 _I do understand. I am just..._ Amaya hesitated. Both with the words, and with how much to reveal to this very young girl, ruler of their northern neighbors. _I am tired._ True. But vague.

“See _that…_ I _definitely_ understand. Queen for a decade, if you recall. That is why I am here. I thought you might want to… talk. Vent. Or want advice. Anything I can help you with, I will. I will leave tomorrow, to go to Marshadan Manor in hills north of here, across the Duren border. With Ellis and Ezran, as you recall.”

Yes. Amaya absolutely recalled that scheme, very clearly the brainchild of someone too smart for their own good and too young to realize how young they were.

But Ezran had left, and that scheme was what they had.

_Yes, I recall. If you do your end in ensuring word does not get out about Callum’s and especially Ezran’s whereabouts, I will hold down the fort, in regards to communications with the other three human nations and planning what to do moving forwards. Queen Janai arrives tonight, and we have things to discuss. Privately._

Queen Aanya regarded her shrewdly. “A kingdom is not a fort,” she said carefully, not mocking her, but genuine advice. So Amaya bit her tongue, figuratively speaking. ‘Speaking’ also being figurative. The genuine concern in Aanya’s face turned just slightly wicked then, an expression she knew very well from Ezran. “I will of course leave when your girlfriend arrives.” Shit. How much had Ezran blabbed?

 _Thank you. Whatever else we are to each other, Janai is the queen of the Sunfire territories, and we need to discuss what to do with the whole mess of a situation._ That was very much _not_ why she wanted to be alone with Janai, but it was definitely the answer Queen Aanya was getting.

“Of course.” The girl’s face faltered a bit. “I am glad you are… you _will_ get them back safely. I am worried,” she said. “For Ezran. And Rayla.” And that was indeed genuine. Heartfelt. Queen Aanya _had_ been a good friend to Ezran, she knew. She probably didn’t know nearly all of it. She had been too far away for too long.

 _You know her? Rayla?_ Amaya asked.

“Not as well as I would like. I like her very much though. And Ezran _loves_ her very much. And I love Ezran.”

 _Oh?_ Amaya’s eyebrows raised in question.

“Not like that.” Aanya said coolly, with not a hint of a blush. So that was probably true and not some immature denial, because no barely adolescent kid could be so unperturbed if crush-feelings _had_ been present, queen or not. “We are just friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

_My nephews give me plenty to worry about. THAT would not make the short-list. Besides, Ezran is, I think, too young for such things._

“Yes, people think. And the world does things, regardless of what people think.” Oh shit, that was a _knowing_ kind of shit-eating grin. Damnit. Fingers crossed, Ezran had not taken after his brother and set his sights on someone with a functioning sense of self-preservation. “But for me and Ezran, no. I do not even know if I like boys like that.” Oh. That implied that she _did_ know she liked _girls_ like that. And she had said- …she really might had missed some things.

 _You like Rayla very much._ Amaya signed. Not admonishment, just the girl’s own words repeated back at her. A crush was not a crime. Acting on it… well, she would have to have words with her, then.

But she had hit the mark. Faint but unmistakable blush across the girl’s golden-skinned cheeks. “I… _did._ A bit. Rest assured I know how ridiculous it is.” Amaya felt a burst of intense sympathy. The girl was what? Barely 13? If there was ever a time to be a bit ridiculous, that was it. But she was queen, and time to be ridiculous was hard to come by, even a single day of it had shown her that. She hoped… Ezran found some. He was bound to find danger and hardship, but maybe… also a bit of something else.

 _Well, far be it for me to judge. My sister and nephew both have a certain proclivity for attractive assassins in tight pants._ Sarai had been every bit as dumb and reckless as Callum and Ezran when she had been their age, she had just gotten the dumb out of her system via ill-advised romances like a normal person, not flown across the continent alone. Although, in retrospect, it was probably good Sarai had not had that option available to her.

Aanya laughed, mollified. “Thank you… for that mental image. And the insight into the late Queen Sarai-”

The draft changed, and Aanya’s gaze shifted to look past her, alerting Amaya to the door opening. Janai burst through, like the force of nature she was.

She stopped though, when she saw Aanya.

Bowed politely. 

“Queen Aanya. So very pleased to meet you. I did not expect you here?” But the signs that accompanied the speech was subtly different, Janai had improved a lot, with subtlety and expressiveness. _Queen Aanya. I am pleased to see you, if not at this particular time and place._

“Queen Janai.” Aanya greeted her. “I am glad to see you. We should discuss what we are to do, all three of us…” Oh hell no. “-tomorrow. Before I leave for Duren.” Well, okay then.

Gren nodded primly at Queen Aanya. “I will escort you back to your quarters, if you desire?”

They left.

The door shut, again.

Janai smiled sweetly at her. _We are alone. You wanted to talk to me about something?_

Amaya tore the stiff doublet off and rolled her shoulders, relishing in the freedom, before she stepped closer. _No._

Janai met her aggression in kind as she pulled her body and mouth to hers. It had only been a few days and they were used to stretches of separation much longer than that but… today was different. Today, she _needed_ her. 

Her warm fingers… always warm, all of her _warm_ … traced up her sides, her hair…

Her mouth… and stopping. Pulling away.

Janai was not one to stop passion once started.

 _No_. Janai signed.

_What?! I asked and you came!_

_You asked me to come. Talk. Because monumental and personal shit went down, and you needed me. If you had asked me to come back to fuck you so you could forget how upset you are, I would have said no, THEN. Passion should be pure._ Sunfire elf shit. She usually tended to agree, but damnit!

Amaya took a deep breath. Janai was _here._ And if she didn’t get to chose what they did tonight, that was still an enormous relief. She could… talk. Like a person. Be herself.

Amaya smiled, because it just dawned on her how much profanity Janai had just used.

It was weirdly adorable. Janai never swore when she was talking with her _voice_ , she was raised a proper princess. Aggression and fierceness was socially acceptable to Sunfire elves, even in the royal court, and profanity was not. But Janai had learned sign language from _her._ Her vocabulary was some hidden proof of their… intentions.

Amaya reached out to cup the warm cheek, smoothing across the stubbornly set jaw. _I am sorry. I do need… you. To stay. To talk. To touch. When and if we both want to._

She leaned into the warm embrace and forgot about the assholes of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you want more Amaya (or need an explanation for Sarai’s proclivity for assassins in tight pants), [Purity chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467198/chapters/56375362#workskin) has you covered and can be read as a one-shot.
> 
> I'm on vacation sans computer next week, so there'll be no chapter next Tuesday, sorry! It was kinda a push, getting this chapter out, so it might be a bit of a mess, I can't even tell anymore :D But I didn't want to do a 3-week unannounced hiatus, so I posted it.
> 
> Up next: Ethari arrives and he and Rayla have some stuff to talk about


	21. 5.3 Lost & Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran tests out his newfound connection. Rayla waits for Callum and Ethari.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented and kudos'ed! I really appreciate all of you! 
> 
> I've had a tough time getting the last chapters done on time, because I've been busy and the last three chapters have been very long and time consuming, but hopefully I'll build up more of a buffer. 
> 
> On the plus side, I accidentally wrote a bunch of a Rayla version of Downtime in Wartime, while I was getting slightly stuck with this story. So I might start posting that in a few weeks, still trying to work out a schedule and stuff. I post teasers of these stories and other stuff on [my tumblr](https://numptypylon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

3.47PM, January 16th, 0AB, Wilderness outside Pantas, Xadia

Ezran felt it spreading from his position, the lines in the Earth. Outwards, under him. Perfectly straight, centered on _him_ and going outwards, in every direction. So many lines it was hard to distinguish just one, they all felt the same, pretty much.

Except one.

The one he wanted. That one felt different, because it was _his_ , the one he was meant to follow.

“I feel it.” Ezran said, pointing, then pulled the blindfold off.

“That was… really quick.” Terry said, clearly surprised. “Most kids take months or _years_ of practice.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll take me a while. I can’t really distinguish the other ones. Just the one I need to follow. I think… it’s about _feelings._ ” Ezran looked down, swallowing. He didn’t know what he would find, but he wanted to find it. “I… want my brother and sister back. So much. I _really_ want to find them. Really like… _inside_ want.”

“That makes no sense. Isn’t _all_ the want inside?”

“No? Like… not like this? A lot my wants kind of get… muddled up with what other people want.” He considered how to explain this without saying anything about ruling or king-lessons or five kingdoms pulling him in different directions. “Like… when your teacher wants you to write nicer? Or your mom wants you to clean your room?” …except multiply that by a few million people he was accountable to.

“Aye, I know,” Terry said, with feeling. “I get it now. You should go. Follow your inside want. I’m _hilariously_ shitty at followin’ outside wants, and you bet it’s bitten me in the hind quarters… but _you’re_ different. Me _mam_ even likes you.”

“She likes you too.” Ezran said, smiling. But Terry definitely wasn’t.

“She loves me.” Terry scoffed. “That’s different, she’s me _mam,_ she has to do _that._ ”

Ezran had never had a mom. And his dad hadn’t lived long enough for their relationship to become _complicated._ He didn’t really… understand. Callum would though. _His_ relationship with their dad had always been complicated. “Maybe you have to find each other again?” he suggested. Terry’s mom was not _bad,_ she was just… tired? If _he_ had been a handful, Terry definitely was too. “Because you’re growing up? And changing.”

That was what him and Callum had had to do, find each other again after they had both changed. And they were really not _done_ doing that, and he really… wanted his dumb brother back, even if he was a dummy who thought he was a little baby ignorant of sandwiches at almost 12 years old.

He wanted to keep growing up, _with_ Callum.

He wanted to tell Rayla the sandwich-scheme was up. It wasn’t even a bad thing, he thought, even though she would probably be really annoyed because he _had_ promised she would be there, and she hadn’t been, he didn’t know _where_ she had been, only that she had been less than a day away from _dying_ at that point-

Ezran shook his head, because he was here to _find_ them. And he would. He felt the directions he needed to go in.

“Ez?” Terry looked at him, as close to ‘thoughtful’ as he probably ever got, if his mom was to be believed. “Who are you? I mean, really? You’re _super_ weird. You seem older than me, and you definitely aren’t you _said_ you weren’t even 12 yet.”

Ezran looked at him, regretful, biting his lip. He didn’t want to lie or make Terry feel like he didn’t trust him, when him and his mom had been really nice. But he also… he couldn’t say it because… it would _hurt_ to say it out loud right now. If he said who he was, he said where he belonged, and he said… he was wrong to be _here_. It _had_ to stay inside him a secret. He couldn’t _be_ King Ezran right now.

“Fine. Don’t tell me,” Terry grumbled, rolling his eyes. But Ezran thought there was a tiny little bit of _upset_ behind it.

“Tell you what,” Ezran said. “I’ll answer pretty much any question but that one. I _do_ ride dragons, so I know a lot of interesting answers to things? Like what the Dragon Queen’s favorite food is? Or-”

“What moonberry crumble’s butt is like?” Terry burst out. “Like… _everyone’s_ tryin’ to find her, so-”

Ezran giggled, the heaviness leaving. “It’s a butt! Just kinda… there. Being a butt. Being sat on and stuff. I really don’t go around thinking about or staring at it. But it’s ‘spectacular’, according to Callum. And I’m pretty sure Soren agrees, although he’s really not that discriminating where butts are concerned-” Ezran cut off, grinning widely at Terry. He did feel like he owed him, and Rayla probably wouldn’t mind. “I could try describing it? Like, it’s about yea big?” Ezran held out his hands to demonstrate.

“You’re… really just… answering my… brainfarty and rude question?!” Terry asked, though gasps of laughter. “That’s… that’s a first. I’ll miss your weirdness, tiny Dragonrider.”

* * *

9.52AM, January 17th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Rayla awoke to warm familiar skin against hers and warm familiar happiness.

For the first time since Claudia had pushed her into the water she felt almost none of the gross, sticky feeling, or gasping for breath or muzzy headache that came from a night of fevered nightmares and interrupted sleep. Whatever aches remained, which she ruefully had to admit that they definitely did… they were barely worth mentioning with everything else so good.

She was nestled comfortably against her favorite person too. That helped. She drew back to look at him, running her fingers along his eyebrows, his cute rounded ears, the fading scratches along his cheek and temple. Lightly though. He should sleep as long as he could.

He was so pretty though. And she was only a simple elven girl with simple desires, and really not a lot of self-control apparently. Because smushing your face against someone else’s face really tended to wake them up, and she probably should have seen that coming.

It was hard to feel contrite though, with those green eyes looking at her like _that,_ or that beloved dopy, sleepy smile spreading on his face. And he did not seem upset to be woken, so contrition was really a waste of a feeling when there were so many better ones to choose from right now.

“I missed you.” He said, voice scratchy with sleep, but full of feeling. “My dumb head missed you.” His forehead against hers, his breath ghosting against her lips. “My hands missed you.” Gentle, clever hands snaking around her waist to draw her closer. “My heart missed you most of all.” The steady thrum where his chest pressed against hers.

What was he doing to _her_ heart? To her everything, really? She felt boneless and melty. He had such a way with words.

Well.

No.

He did not.

But the _feelings_ behind them… they were clear and strong. He had a way with _feelings._ Making _her_ feel feelings. She just had to listen. That had been hard, and sometimes it still was, but it was easier with him. Easier when you felt safe and loved to expose yourself and your heart and vulnerabilities. And there were things she needed to say to him, even if they would kill the mood, even if he had forgiven her.

“I missed you too,” she said. “So much. And I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” She had gone over the cliff. She had failed to do what she had promised him. She had failed to survive, even if she miraculously still lived.

“What for?”

“For dying? For going over that cliff? I went and did the _one_ thing you asked me not to do.” Her eyes stung and her throat felt tight.

It had hurt him. And Ethari.

They were both in danger now. Callum, sweet monumental idiot that he was, could have easily died getting here all on his own. He had come alone, undersupplied, unbalanced. She teased him about his dumb idea face, but really, he was brilliant and talented. He thought about things, _overthought_ about things really, and was skilled enough to pull of flights maneuvers that had impressed even Ibis. And he had run out of water and been so off his game a tree had taken him out.

She wanted to say more things, but her throat had closed up, her vision blurry.

“Hey. Claudia did that. Not you. You tried to stop her, you told me. Tried to stall, tried…” He rocked her back and forth, his hands stroking along her back, again and again. “You tried your best to survive. I know. I saw it. You tried. That’s good enough. _I_ flew across the continent, like _you_ specifically asked _me_ to not do. That could have gone really wrong too. I know… in my _head_ that we can’t control everything, that you can do everything right and it can still go wrong.”

His head was only a small part of what needed convincing of that, she thought, as she pressed against his unconvinced heartbeat.

And she _really_ hadn’t done everything right. Not by a long shot.

“I don’t need you to succeed every time at the things I ask-” He kissed her forehead, her wet cheeks. “Although… I would really appreciate if you succeeded at not dying for… a-a long… ti-” He sniffed too now. Buried his face in her shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while.

“You have to get going soon. Tarrel will pick you up with his boat.” They would go get Ethari at the agreed upon spot, at moonrise tonight. And she would stay behind, just… _waiting._

It was not even for that long, and her whole body protested at the idea of him leaving. It was no more than a couple of hours to the mainland, when you were not zigzagging or searching aimlessly.

Or at the mercy of the crashing waves, helpless, every breath, every minute a struggle-

No. She couldn’t think about it. He would be back in maybe 10 hours. It was nothing.

She had to swallow the pathetic urge to hold on to his fingertips, when he stroked down her arms and hands, before letting go. Callum went to have a dip in the ocean before he had to leave, and Rayla waited.

When Callum returned, it was on the heels of Volum, hair dripping and feet bare, plainly having raced after him without drying off.

“I should evaluate your progress,” Volum said, curt and with no other greeting.

“Good morning to you too,” Rayla said drily.

“I should see if the stitches can be removed.” Volum continued, ignoring her, then turned to Callum. “Kindly leave,” he said, rather… _un_ kindly.

Callum glared at him. “I am her intended.”

“You are in the way.” Volum said coolly, ignoring him to systematically go through the cupboards, retrieving various supplies.

“How?!” Callum asked, heated now. He definitely had a temper, and he had been… tense. “Is it harder to be shitty to someone injured and vulnerable and dependent on your help, with an audience?!”

“Callum!” Rayla said, reaching for his clenched fists. “I don’t need to be wrapped in cotton grass fluff by him… _or_ you. I can take it.”

“You can take a lot.” Callum said, breathing deliberately and slowly. “Doesn’t mean you should.” He had calmed slightly, but the anger was very close to the surface, still. “In fact, how much you’ve already _taken_ is all the more reason to…” Callum turned back to Volum, glaring, but there was something of a plea there, too. “-be good to her. You see some annoyance, some obstacle, when she’s infuriatingly flippant about her own wellbeing-“

“More like actively undermining my efforts to keep her alive, but yes. Annoyance works.” Volum sneered, never removing his eyes or hands from his task. “I get that for whatever reason, she’s precious to _you_ , but-”

“She’s not just precious to _me_ , you absolute prick!” Callum was nearly shouting now. “She’s precious and important, _period!_ And _she_ doesn’t see that, and that’s why she’s the worst patient to ever exist, trust me that I do realize that she’s also that!

“You know what _she_ is!? Right fucking _here!”_ The shout tore at her throat but she didn’t care.

“You need to leave, boy.” Volum said. “You are upsetting my patient, and following the head injury she sustained, this kind of emotional upheaval is not-”

Rayla had been angry at Callum and his ridiculous fussing but… the kind of upset on his face now was… not okay. She put her arms around him. “Hey. You’re _not_ hurting me.”

“Yes I am. I’m making you comfort me, I made you so angry you shouted and I could tell that hurt, and-“

“A little then. A little is okay. You’re making me a _lot_ happy. I woke up happy today, pretty much for the first time in weeks. And I love you even when you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know,” he said, fond now, leaning forward to kiss her temple and forehead. “Me too. I realized I was in love with you at a _peak_ driving-me-crazy-moment.”

“Anyone care that _I’m_ being driven crazy, listening to this?” Volum scoffed impatiently.

Not really at all, no.

So she kissed Callum soundly. In front of Volum. Ignoring the stupid _tradition-shame_ that was not even… did not even make _sense…_ because they were intended and in any elven culture but her own, this was fine.

“Nope.” Rayla grinned at Volum, slightly triumphantly. He was entirely unmoved.

But Callum got to stay, and she _was_ happy about that.

Rayla definitely didn’t need him to hold her hand. Removing stitches didn’t really hurt. She still did, because she thought _he_ did. She knew he was upset he hadn’t been with her when she _had_ needed him.

She squeezed his hand when Volum disinfected the wounds, because that part _did_ hurt. Callum stroked across the knuckles of her right hand. She took the comfort she didn’t need.

“Barring your own efforts to the contrary, you should be fine with no further professional treatment or supervision. Your lungs and remaining injuries will recover in time, come by my clinic for a checkup in a week’s time, or if you suffer any pain or discomfort beyond the expected amount. I very strongly recommend taking it easy for at least a few weeks, and leaving the brace on until the checkup, but you will no doubt ignore me, so I will take my leave.” Callum wouldn’t ignore it though, he never did, and now he would worry for _weeks-_

Volum left so quickly she didn’t even get to say goodbye, which was weird because for days on end, he had been the only one here, and now he wouldn’t be back.

And Callum had to leave soon, too.

Soon.

Not _now._

 _Now,_ she climbed into Callum lap to straddle him, sliding her fingers into his hair, shorter than it had been when she had left. The salt from the sea water made it stick up when her fingers teased though it.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked, looking as unhappy as she was about splitting up.

“You heard Volum. I’m fine. Don’t need supervision.” She leant forward to kiss him, pressing closer, ignoring the part of her that was very un-okay with him leaving.

Callum responded but just slightly… off. “I feel like… Volum’s still giving us the side-eye,” he confessed, drawing back slightly. “That he’s going to burst in here and tell me I’m not allowed to get you excited.”

“Well, I’m not his patient anymore. He doesn’t get a say in how excited I’m allowed to get! Besides, there’s literally a hundred feet of water between us right now.”

“Not reassuring. The side-eye transcends such things.”

“Agreed,” Tarrel said, from the doorway, snickering. “You ready to leave?” He walked closer to rest his hand briefly on top of her head, the Tidebound way. “Will you be alright on your own up here? I brought you enough real food to last you until we return. See that you eat all of it, now.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her thoughts far away across the sea where they were about to be.

“That was suspiciously compliant, kid.” Tarrel said. “You feeling alright? Except… the obvious, I mean?”

“I’m worried,” she admitted tightly. There were crossing the winter sea to the mainland, and she _knew_ that wasn’t dangerous with an experienced sailor like Tarrel, but it _felt_ dangerous. And then they were getting Ethari and that worried her too, because what if he wasn’t at the place and time they had agreed? He was smart and careful and could handle himself, but he was no warrior or battle mage, and if Viren or Claudia had found him, he was… spell components.

“We’ll bring your dad back safe.” Tarrel said, reassuring. Right. She had said that, back when he had fished her out of the water. That Ethari was her dad. She should probably… rectify that, before Tarrel actually met him.

“He’s not... really-” 

“Oh, I know. You told me. Complicated situation and all, with your parents. But this part _isn’t_. Don’t deny it kid. The tide has come. Feelings are already there, regardless of what you call them. You told me that too.”

* * *

2.39PM, January 17th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Callum had left with Tarrel and now Rayla was just… waiting. Like she had been for days. 

Waiting for her body to fall in line with her wishes and be less of a useless, floppy, painful nuisance.

Waiting for her lungs to let her breathe properly, like really ought to be a basic human and elven right. And dragon right too. And glowtoad right. Really it should be for everyone, was the point.

Waiting for Ethari after his bird found her, and then for Callum after her bird found _him_. And now she was waiting for both of them.

She was no good at waiting.

And she _hated_ waiting.

Failing to wait for the right time to strike was a weakness, still, in her fighting, she knew. Runaan had told her often enough. She had thought of one of those times, when she had been… what? Dreaming?

It had been some hazy fog, mostly no clear view, just… voices. Faces. _Feelings._

Maybe it had been dying? She wasn't sure about any of it. If any of it meant anything besides what meaning _she_ put on top of it.

Part of it… the part with Runaan… still nagged at her. He had… told her things _she_ didn’t know. She would have to ask Ethari if it was true. Or maybe she shouldn’t. Runaan was _dead._ That had been some fevered hallucination, and she was really considering poking at Ethari’s grief just because of some nagging, poking doubt that wouldn’t let her go?

And it was _humid_ today, and she still had a little bit of a fever, she had realized that as soon as she started moving and actually doing things. She had been able to forget about it for a little while, when Callum had been here, how _uncomfortable_ everything still was.

And the ‘doing things’ was nothing more than going to sit outside instead of sitting _inside._

She didn’t feel quite right calling it pain. Not when it had hurt so much worse than it did now.

But her throat and chest and head ached, and her shoulder ached, and _everything_ ached when she moved faster than an 80-year-old, and the dumb, unnecessary brace itched and she was too hot, still. And she was just so _tired._ All the time. She was tired _now,_ and she had only been awake for three hours or so.

And all of these were very petty complaints, she knew, when she was lucky to be alive and Callum was off getting Ethari for her, despite how tired _he_ still was, and she really was… well… maybe ‘looking forward to’ was not the right words for how she felt about Ethari being on his way, because things were about to get complicated and messy once he got here. There was a bunch of things they ought to talk about that would be no fun at all, but still… she _missed_ him.

She dug her fingers into the warms sand beneath her and looked out at the calm seas that were anything but calming for _her._ She was alone, too tired to do anything and too anxious to rest, let alone sleep.

This dumb fatigue would pass. She would get up in the morning. Go about her day. Act like things were okay.

 _Wait_.

It was really… nothing. Nothing to complain about. She was alive when she really ought to not be, and Callum had made it here alright-

No.

He was _not_ alright.

He was pretending to be, because _she_ wasn’t alright.

* * *

6.24PM, January 18th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

There was light, below. A bunch of them, even, as the light in the sky dimmed and campfires lit up.

Ezran pressed close to Zym, to hopefully not be seen. They definitely couldn’t tell he was human from all the way down there.

This area was _big._

Big and wild. It _was_ called the Hanari Wilds, so he supposed that made sense, but it was hard to find _anyone_. He had found the burned forest though, following the lines in the earth he felt even when he was in the sky, and then Zym’s way-better-than-human- _or-_ elven eyesight had picked up the darker area of forest from much further away than he could have.

 _Callum_ might be a loose canon, doing whatever reckless thing his dumb head and desperate heart urged him to, but _Corvus_ was a sensible and reliable party. And Ezran _knew_ him. Corvus had told him how to survey an area, how to find a place to make camp in enemy territory, to avoid detection.

And Ezran had a very good survey of this area from the _air_. And he thought, if Corvus _was_ still here, he could figure out _where._

Corvus had _taught_ him how to find him, what to look for. High ground. Hard to swarm quickly, but quick to leave. Source of water. Old, large trees but not too close branches, so he could utilize his grappling hook for mobility as well as defense.

The _point_ though, was that he was hard to find. And Ezran could go all… yelling and screaming. Callum had done enough of that, they couldn’t _both_ get into trouble, or there would be no-one to save the other, _or_ Rayla or Soren.

Corvus was here, close, Ezran was sure of it. And it was cold so he would have lit a fire somewhere the light couldn’t be seen from the burnt forest in the valley, where the Earthblood elves were swarming.

But good luck lighting a fire that couldn’t be seen from the _air._

It wasn’t magic, _exactly._ But it was, in a way. He _knew_ Corvus. And magic was about connection, Callum had said so. He had followed the lines in the earth that connected the different sides of the world to get here, and now he was following another connection.

And he found it, really quite quickly after nightfall, a campfire on a hilltop, away from the others in the valley.

Ezran knew, when he landed, that this was it.

He had made a pretty fine intrepid kid detective, if did say so himself. He could _do_ this.

The embers had been stomped down and the camp hastily abandoned, but this was _it_.

Wood stacked like Corvus did it, slightly different from how Rayla had taught him, he had noticed that when they had travelled back through Katolis together. And elves wouldn’t have fled from a dragon, that was disrespectful. For humans it was common sense, still. The dragons were not all on board with Zubeia’s policies.

So he fed the fire, stoking the embers into flames anew, and waited, until he heard the faint rustle in the trees. It could have been anything, but it wasn’t.

“Corvus?” he said,

“ _King Ezran?!”_

Corvus dropped to the ground, along with his jaw.

* * *

10.12PM, January 17th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Ethari was an unusual Moonshadow, but he _was_ still Moonshadow and she could see the illusion of calm he was putting up for her.

And the imperfections in it.

His arms holding her too carefully when he was usually more of a crushing bear-hug person. His hands trembling against her cheeks, her hair. The stutter in his breath.

“Rayla.” The tremble in his voice.

“Ethari, you’re-” She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him until he touched her and she crumbled into him like the child she really wasn’t anymore.

Ethari cradled her to him, like she was still that child.

“Oh. My child.” Ethari spoke into her hair, a relieved breath.

_My dad._

The thought rose in her unbidden, like it had when Tarrel had fished her from the water, when she had been dazed from pain and barely clinging to consciousness. When she had had no resources to guard her thoughts, that had been the one that had come to her. She had even said it aloud.

But Ethari wasn’t her dad, not quite. That wasn’t… what he had meant, not on the couch in the Silvergrove when he had said goodbye to her, and not now. _She_ felt it, but _her_ feelings were only one side of it. The arrangement had been clear, she was under guardianship and not… adopted.

But she loved him and he loved her, and she had only ever doubted that for the brief minutes she had sat on the edge of the pond, staring at her own single lotus remaining. She he put her arms around his neck and pressed as close as she could, running her fingers through his hair, around the base of his horns to calm him and comfort him, when his illusion crumbled away with harsh sobs into her shoulder.

_Dad._

She could still think it, even if she couldn’t say it. Even if it was never said aloud at all or used different words, Tarrel was right.

The tide had come, and a long time ago, at that.

The feelings were already there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This chapter was split, because this is already 4K+ and I haven't even STARTED unpacking the drama Ethari's arrival will spark. So that's also why the header is so half-assed, since I had to make an extra, last minute, haha!
> 
> Up next: Rayla and Ethari unpack a mountain of baggage


	22. 5.4 Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla and Ethari unpack a buttload of baggage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and kudos'ed! I really appreciate the feedback!
> 
> I was kinda... distracted by the Through the Moon comics, today, so this chapter did NOT want to be edited, haha. But I might post another oneshot soon, on the plus side.
> 
> Hope you enjoy some MORE emotional fallout of S4. I swear S5 has its own plot :D

  
  


10.12PM, January 17th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Rayla pulled back a bit, as Ethari straightened up.

They should probably… got somewhere not the middle of a deserted beach, to continue this conversation that had so far been less conversation and more tears and hugs and very big feelings.

Callum had been keeping a respectful distance, knowing what he did about Moonshadow culture, and displays of emotion. He was leaning against one of the palm trees, slumped back and halfway down. She frowned, noting the exhaustion in every line of his body.

“I have a bunch of things to tell you,” she told Ethari, putting her uninjured hand in his and leading him towards the conch shell where there were places to sit that weren’t damp sand. “Callum should rest though,” she added firmly. Callum immediately straightened up from his slumped position, like that was convincing in the slightest. “But one of the things I have to tell you he should be here for.”

Callum came over to join them at the seating built into the outside of the giant conch shell, his slight anxiousness giving away that he knew what she meant to say with him present.

The first part though, jittery as it made her feel, even through the weary, fuzzy ache and tiredness from a day alone and unable to rest, was the _good_ part. There was… a bunch of less good parts, after.

Rayla took a deep breath. Ethari wouldn’t… _mind_. He would not be all that surprised either. He would be happy, she was sure. But still. It was important. Controversial. Extremely unlikely to endear her to the citizens of the Silvergrove.

Pah. As if she could _get_ less popular, with _that_ crowd.

“Callum is my intended.” “And I’m his. We agreed.”

He stared at both of them, wide-eyed but smiling. Not surprised. They were young, but it was not so unusual. It wasn’t just like a human betrothal, something in addition to an already existing relationship. It was also an official acknowledgement that the relationship was there in the first place. Under normal circumstances, she would be introducing Callum to her family at the same occasion she was announcing they were intended. But what was normal, even? Fuck if she knew.

Becoming intended happened earlier, on average, than human betrothals, and yet broke less often, because Moonshadows were _dutiful._ Led to a lot of unhappy adult relationships, probably, that combination.

“I’m glad.” Ethari said. “Not surprised. You were intended in your hearts for a long time already, young as you are.”

“Does this make it more or less scandalous?” Rayla asked wryly, but not only in jest.

She was honestly unsure.

It was improper of her to have been so openly involved with Callum, while their relationship was unacknowledged, non-existent to Moonshadow.

Entering into an official relationship with a human? She wasn’t even sure what _that_ was.

“Depends on the person, I think,” Ethari said seriously. He was genuinely worried, she could tell, thinking of her, what would await her upon her return. He had never _quite_ understood that it wasn’t her home anymore, that she came there for him and only him. “Old nanny Teinath was certainly more scandalized that you were carrying on with a someone unacknowledged. She was very sure you would return pregnant with a halfling child or end up in some ditch somewhere.”

“I’m not pregnant!” Rayla exclaimed, horrified. She had not even considered _that_ view on things. “That’s not why! We love each other. And we want to be open about that. _That’s_ why.”

“I know,” Ethari laughed. “You give me… oh _so_ many reasons to worry, but that is not one of them. I know you paid due diligence in _that_ class, even if the history and magic teachers had some words to say about you.”

“Let me guess. That I was a moron and a troublemaker with no prospects?” she rolled her eyes.

“What?!” Ethari looked shocked. “No! Why would you think that?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t… important. Or it was, maybe, underneath the part that wasn’t. “You always seemed… disappointed I guess. Or Runaan did, at least. Whenever you came home from those conversations with my teachers.”

“Not in _you!_ Rayla! No!” He squeezed her hand emphatically. “You thought that? Oh sweetheart. No. Disappointed in your teachers. Yes. Runaan taught you for a decade, he knew you were clever and a hard worker. Your other teachers saw something else, that’s true. That doesn’t mean they were right. Sticking up for other people or pointing out things that are unfair is not making trouble. Runaan was so proud of you.”

“Proud of what I could _do_.” Rayla sighed.

Ashamed of who she _was_.

Runaan had loved her until she broke it, she knew _that_ , but…

But Ethari tipped her face up to look at him, shaking his head at her, smiling gently.

“No.” He looked… very sure. More sure than she was, for sure. “More than that. Runaan was… sometimes very bad at expressing himself. But I knew him well.”

Ethari turned to Callum. “You… remember the memory I showed you? On the cliff, to talk sense into us both? It is hard… sometimes… still. To think about Runaan. Because he _saw_ that. He was _there_ , right behind me, so… not in the memory you saw. But he _saw_ that, saw her kind heart, every day for more than a decade, and still…”

Runaan had brought her on a mission to kill when she was neither ready nor suited for it, and there was just… no way that was right. That that had _been_ right _._ But it was still like… her _head_ knew that but the rest of her didn’t.

“I am angry with him for what he did to you, Rayla.” Ethari continued, looking down at his clenched hands. “Angry with myself for not stopping it. You were my responsibility. Runaan… he didn’t see it, he was so proud of you he… didn’t… but I _did._ And I let it get so far I could not stop it, and then punished _you-_ ”

Ethari cut off, swallowing. Rayla put her hands on top of his, leaning into his side.

“He… said that too. Runaan,” she wondered. “I thought it was a dream, but… it didn’t fit.” She turned to Callum. “I’ll tell you this later, I promise, but-”

But this was not only personal to _her._

Callum got up, leaning forward over to kiss her temple, his fingers grazing her arm before retreating inside the conch shell. “I’ll let you two… catch up,” he said, understanding.

“Take a nap. Okay?” she asked, catching his hand as he left. He was obviously a mild breeze away from dropping where he stood, but he would _still_ wait up for her if left to his own devices, she knew.

And then they were alone.

“Are you tired?” she asked Ethari. “Hungry?”

He shook his head, gently pulling her closer. The moonlight and the air were warm. He was even warmer.

“Ethari, I need to ask you something,” she said, because she had to, because he deserved the full truth. “Back when you told Runaan I was not suited to be an assassin… before we left on the mission to Katolis. Was that more like… a discussion than you sharing your thoughts? Did you shout it at him?”

“Yeah, I shouted,” he said quietly. He was… giving her the truth, too. “And calling it a ‘discussion’ would be giving both of us too much credit. It was a blazing row. I knew it would be. Knew how stubborn Runaan was, and how important it was to me. So I sent you up to pick cheaili leaves from the hills, so you would not hear us.”

Rayla abruptly sat up straight, breathing sharp and not enough.

She felt dizzy, away from the wall and Ethari that had anchored her.

How had Runaan said things _she_ didn’t know. Dreams didn’t work like that.

Ethari’s arm wrapped firmly around her, steadying her, guiding her to sit back against him. “Rayla?” he asked, sounding far away. “Easy now. Are you okay?” The _worry_ made it through the haze.

“No,” she said numbly.

How was that possible? Had her parents been real too? She had told them they weren’t. But maybe she had been wrong. She had not been wrong about what she _meant_ though.

Her parents had not been real to her for a decade. They were Dragonguards first and parents second.

Even Runaan had been a parent first when he had ordered her to wait on that rock. That was the punishment a father gave a disobedient child, not the punishment from a leader to a traitor.

Until she pushed him too far, on those ramparts, she had been his child. Maybe even after, but she didn’t know that… wasn’t sure.

It ate at her, that unsurety, that thought that Runaan had died hating her. And he had… confirmed it, if it had truly been him. Told her to _get out._

She didn’t know if her parents had thought of her at all when they died. If she was anyone important, to them. If she was still their daughter or just part of a life they had left behind.

Runaan had bound her to kill Ezran when she had been 15 years old. That was wrong. No way that could be anything but wrong. It had taken her more than a year to be sure of it, but she was now, in her head, at least. It had been wrong. Runaan had been wrong.

She had pleaded with him to do it, but she hadn’t fully understood what any of it meant until she had stood in the forest and Runaan had told her she had doomed them all. Even Runaan had agreed on _that_ , in the dream that was not a normal dream.

Ethari had ghosted her, picked Runaan’s memory over living her. He had regretted it, stood with her against the rest of the Silvergrove since… but he had still done it and it would never go away. That he had done that. She had forgiven him, but it had still _happened._

Her parents had never done anything horrible to her.

Except leave.

Except not _be_ there.

There and flawed. It was better than not-there and flawless, she thought.

She looked up at Ethari, at the flawed person she loved, the flawed parent that was _her_ parent. Even unacknowledged, that had been who he had been, to her.

Runaan too. Until she broke it.

“Ethari?” she said carefully. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he deserved the full truth. “I think… I think I saw Runaan. Talked to him. I thought it was a dream, but it felt different. I didn’t feel… real? But not like a dream either. Like… in-between. I spoke to him, and he told me that. That you shouted. And other things, too. That I was… better than that. And to get out.” She looked down, swallowing the tears rising. Ethari deserved to know all of it, even if it hurt her to say out loud that… Runaan had hated her, at the end.

Ethari’s hands came up to wipe away the tears that made it out, completely disregarding her wishes. She was tired and dizzy and the remnants of fever still clung to her, and all the feelings seemed so eager to push to the surface and so resistant to any attempts at controlling them.

“Rayla, I… Runaan, like I said, he was sometimes very bad at expressing himself. You know we fought about that, at least a few times.”

“Over me,” she choked out. She knew. She had heard the tail end of a few arguments.

“Runaan loved us both so much. And I understood what he was saying, but you didn’t. Not always. You were a child, and he needed to tell you, free of illusions. I could see it, the thing that happened when he tried. He would tell you something like that you did some new move perfectly and in his head that meant that he loved you and was proud of you, but that was not what you heard. Was it?”

“No.” It very much was _not._ “I… And I didn’t understand it, not really, why it wasn’t. Not for a long time. Callum helped me see it, because he doesn’t… say things like that. That I’m perfect. He said… that I always get back up and that it’s my heart and my choices and not what I can _do_ that makes me… me.”

“He’s a smart one, Callum. And he loves you very much, I could tell, even the first time I met him. I felt ashamed then, Rayla. He was right. Well, the words he said didn’t convince me so much as… him. This scared young boy in a foreign land, who had known you for all of three weeks and was yelling at me that you deserved better than what I had done. I should have fought for you. You deserve that.”

“That’s why you broke the ghosting? Even though it would have been broken anyway, on Zubeia’s word?”

“Yes. I should have never done it in the first place, that failure was mine, and I know you’ve forgiven me, but I also know you will never forget it, how could you? That was… mine to bear, too, not yours. I should have… _we_ should have talked about this sooner. I don’t… it would have been _too_ late. I should have at least explained _why-_ ” He had thought she was dead for a day. That the stuff they had decided without word to not talk about, would _remain_ not talked about.

“I’m not a complete idiot, you know.” Rayla said, managing a small smile, reassuring him. She had understood, and forgiven him. And she didn’t want him to feel bad about it, she would never want that. “I know why you did it. Because of… Runaan.”

“Yes,” Ethari said. “I was lost, after his lotus sank. I had been so… _so_ very angry with him. I love him, and I could not bear it. I could not mourn him and be angry with him at the same time, it’s like… it was tearing me apart, having those feelings inside me-” Ethari cut himself off, looking out over the calm ocean.

He was holding back, still. For her. But it wasn’t… helping either of them.

“Ethari?” she asked. “Callum’s family, they do this thing. Big Feelings Time. Where you say your feelings out loud and the other person listens. It’s not the Moonshadow way _at all._ But I want to do it. With you. If you’ll listen. Because it’s like you said. Feelings hurt more when they’re trapped inside you.”

“That- _really_ isn’t the Moonshadow way.” Ethari looked rather stunned. “But we were always a bit odd, the two of us. Back home. I didn’t fit in either, you know that.” Yeah, she knew. He had understood too well, when she came home from school crying or when he had found her in the woods after the worst day of her life, her first day back at school after word of her parents reached the Silvergrove. “I’ll do it. For you.”

“No,” she said, squeezing his hand. “That’s not how it works. It goes both ways. It’s for you, too.”

“Rayla. You are hurt and sick. The last thing I want is to put my burdens on you, right now.”

“It doesn’t work like that either,” she said, sure about this. “I don’t _take_ your burdens. I just listen.”

* * *

“I think about that sometimes. About Runaan. And my parents. I know… Runaan loved me. He never said so, but he showed me. But Ethari, I _broke_ it. I think he hated me, at the end… -h-he told me to get out-”

Ethari lifted her into his lap to engulf her fully, as the sobs tore loose.

“Oh Rayla,” he said, softly into her hair. “He didn’t want you wherever he is. It’s not a good place. He wanted you alive and free, not paying for his mistakes, that’s what that meant. I know. If I ever see him again I’ll give him such an earful about how terribly he phrased that… well… maybe _after_ I snog his brains out, but-”

If he ever _saw_ him again?!

WHAT?!

But she was distracted, then, because Ethari cut off, gasping hoarse, horrible sobs.

* * *

“I have something to share with you too. About Runaan. I don’t know if now is the right time. But if the last week has taught me anything, it is not to wait. I thought I was out of time, Rayla. With you. I had 12 hours of thinking I was out of time. Of regretting… so many things. But certainly regretting ever holding back with you.”

King Harrow’s letter. She had read it. It had said the same thing. Regretting holding back. She would ask Callum if Ethari could read it. He would certainly say yes, he was not private with his feelings like the Moonshadow. It might make him feel… more okay. Less alone? With having regrets.

He was looking at her with concern though, still hesitating.

“Ethari. It’s okay. I’m okay,” she assured him, but his gentle fingers grazed her hair, her bruised shoulder, the brace on her wrist. “Fine. So that last one’s a work in progress,” she grinned. He didn’t smile, and he usually always did, Runaan had frequently bemoaned how much he encouraged the sass. So he was _really_ worried how she would take whatever he was about to say. “Ethari. I’m strong. I can take it.”

“I know you are. But Rayla, you never want to hurt the people you love, regardless if they can take it. And I don’t know what it means, what I’m about to tell you. But I _will_ tell you.”

* * *

“Runaan is…” -not dead. Not fully. Not _all_ the way.

The lotus was still floating.

She pulled Ethari closer, as he told her all of it, and as he cried into her hair and she cried into his chest.

“I don’t know… _how_ to feel,” he confessed.

That was a big feeling too, though. He just hadn’t found the shape of it yet, except _big._

It was a pretty accurate description, she thought. How _were_ you supposed to feel?

They didn’t know anything at all. But there was hope where there had been none.

And a lot of unknowns. But hope, too.

Some hidden light, below the water.

She looked out at the sea that filled her with nauseous dread, despite the calm waters glittering in the moonlight. She had business out there. The light _she_ had left, below the water. The hope of restoring Lux Aurea.

She hadn’t thought of it like that, until now. She had put it out of her mind, the thought that she would have to cross that water to show where she had dumped that staff, it had been some dark task waiting for her that she had not had the space in her head to fully consider.

But maybe it was light and hope, too.

* * *

Rayla leaned her head against Ethari’s chest, exhausted.

Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Her body hurt, but that was nothing new.

And there was another _big_ feeling, and it was childish compared to these other things, but…

It was there, and big, and bubbling out, her defenses stripped away by reveals of the last hours and the lonely, awful day before that, and the fevered nights before _that._

“Ethari? You never… let me call you dad. I asked, a few times. I remember. When I was very little. But you said to call you Ethari.” Oh no, he was _hurting_ now. His hands shook, his eyes squeezed shut. This feeling was big for him too.

“It was- complicated. And… part of the holding back I mentioned. You were not big enough to understand it. It tore at my heart to reject you, but I had to. You were not mine, not like I wanted.”

“But you were mine!” Tears spilled out with the words. “I’ll call you Ethari. It’s how I think of you. But words can mean different things to different people. And Ethari means dad to me. It’s like… dummy. I call Callum that, all the time, because he is. And he said to me once, when he was really drunk, I’m sure he doesn’t even remember, but… he said that ‘dummy’ might as well mean ‘love of my life’, the way I said it. And he was right.” Defiance was filling her now, despite the tears that were refusing to stop. “And that’s what Ethari means to me, what _you_ mean to me. And you don’t have to think of me as your daughter for me to think of you as my father. It’s big feelings time. You only have to liste-”

She sobbed against his chest. He loved her and had raised her lovingly and that was enough. She just wanted… _him_ to know.

Ethari rested his cheek against the top of her head, his warm embrace engulfing her fully. “Rayla, I have thought of you as my daughter for ten years. It felt like betrayal to say it. I loved Lain as a brother, he was my best friend. You were mine, and yet not, because you were his. But it was selfish, maybe. It was certainly not fair to you. You deserved better. You still do. To be acknowledged fully. As mine.”

She hugged him closer, getting used to that feeling that he was… hers. That the tide had come for him, like it had for her.

They had been there all along, the feelings. But there was definitely… something to be said for _knowing_ that.

“What about Runaan?” she gulped out, wet kinda relieved laughter. “If he’s not dead? You-” Ethari couldn’t just adopt her without him. They were married, and decided together.

“A lot of things are uncertain. But that’s not. We should not wait, to say things like that. If I ever see Runaan again, he will have a lot to deal with. The world, not the world he knows anymore. You, not the person he imagined but your own person. Your human intended. We will throw you being my daughter on the pile, it is certainly the easiest one of them. You were his maybe even longer than you were mine. You had his heart from the first time your little hand closed around his finger. He always fell hard and fast, Runaan. I know him.” Present tense. He was… hopeful. So was she. She would certainly much rather have Runaan alive and hating her than dead. “Rayla. Trust me. You’re his too. He doesn’t hate you. He never could.”

Trust him?

She did.

She had, when she had given him a daughter’s love unknowing if it was returned.

The sobs tore at her already sore throat and chest.

Ethari cradled her against his broad chest, rocking her back and forth, like she was still a child.

No.

 _His_ child.

His.

* * *

Reality was fading at the edges. She had slept so long lately, and yet she was still so tired. She had to get up. Get inside, probably. She wasn’t sure _where_ she was except that is was warm and comfortable.

Wait.

That had been a whole thing, when she had been more sick. That she had to stay down.

Ethari pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. So that’s where she was.

He must have felt her twitching to get up before she fell fully asleep and couldn’t. “You do not have to get up. You can let go and it’ll _be_ okay. You’ll still wake up in your bed, and the world will still be there.”

“m’too big.” She was 17. That was definitely too big for your dad to carry you to bed.

“You’re my 1-hour-old daughter, remember?”

Ethari stood up, her with him. She was too tired to fight it.

It was fading.

Away, but good.

Not cold and pulled down.

Warm and lifted up.

She vaguely registered him putting her down somewhere soft. Callum’s slow breaths next to her that she would know anywhere. But they were changing, he was waking.

“Hey.” Callum’s voice. Muzzy and tired. Quiet, so as not to wake her, but the worry in his voice was loud and clear. “Is she okay? She was crying-” He could always tell. She was pale so redness was always really obvious.

“Yes. And no. We had a talk. One part was complicated, and I’m sure she will tell you about it tomorrow. But the other part was simple. And good, I think. And because of you. ‘Big Feelings Time’, she called it. We agreed and said it out loud. That I am her dad and she is my daughter. Mine. Even if she is not _only_ mine. And you are my daughter’s intended. So you are mine too. If you want to be.”

“Yes.” Callum said, without hesitation or reservation, because that was who he was, with his feelings.

There were voices, through the fog, muffled and soft and trying to be quiet for her.

Pah.

Dummies.

 _Their_ voices were better than quiet.

* * *

When she woke up, the world was still there.

All the things that had been wrong still were, pretty much.

But a few things were less wrong. Better.

She might have… four alive parents.

She had one, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the angst fest!
> 
> Next chapter will be up in 2 weeks, september 22nd. I've been busy and lacked focus, so I really need to build up more of a buffer on this and work out some plot details.
> 
> Up next: Ezran and Corvus have and chat and get a letter


	23. 5.5 Lines in the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvus and Ezran catch up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and kudos'ed on this story, it really means a lot to me :)
> 
> Corvus and Ezran are up! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> There'll be more [Mess of Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26391169/chapters/64286191) on Sunday, for those of you following that story. And Rayla version of Downtime in Wartime might start posting in early-mid october. I'll probably change schedules for this story at some point to every other week, since long chapters every week doesn't allow me time to work on other WIPs, now school has started.

  
  


6.24PM, January 18th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

“King Ezran?!” Corvus looked shocked, numbly walking towards him and Zym, sitting by the fire.

“Just Ez,” Ezran corrected, but smiled widely at Corvus. “I’m Ez. Or Ezran if you really must. Amaya is regent, as of now. So I’m Ez.”

“I… had a similar talk with your brother,” Corvus said numbly, still kinda… in disbelief. Wait. _Brother?!_

“Callum?! Is he okay?! Did he find Rayla?! Is _she_ okay?!”

“They are both alive, I am quite certain of that.” Corvus said, cautiously, not looking quite happy, still. But that was _really_ good news!

Ezran charged forwards to throw his arms around Corvus’ waist. Corvus was steady and sensible, and it was _really_ great to see him and hug him, and he kept his arms around him as they both sat down, because Corvus was kind too, under the snark and the manners.

“I saw Callum,” Corvus explained. “He had found Rayla’s guardian, Ethari, and they had some lead and were going to try to find her. I can give you what information I have. It is not much, I’m afraid. Just directions to a cliff where… Rayla fell. Into the ocean below. I’m sorry, but there is no doubt that that was what happened.”

_Fell._

Like… Callum had feared, above anything else. Some cliff somewhere alone.

He swallowed the tears though. He would find them both and _then_ cry.

Possibly… quite a lot.

For now though, him and Zym should eat and sleep. It was probably another long day tomorrow.

Corvus had made some sort of stew that he claimed would be boring because he had run out of salt and spices, but it was warm and filling and that was plenty, right now. It was really, really relative, what a good meal was.

And Corvus let him have all the tubers and just ate the meat himself, because he was nice, like that. And it was nice to be full, and even nicer to have company.

Ezran was relaxing for the first time in days, falling asleep even sitting upright leaning against Zym. He jolted a bit more awake though, as Corvus spoke.

“Ezr- Ez? You should sleep. You and your dragon both. I will watch out.”

He _was_ tired. Long day’s ride.

Zym was not the comfiest seat, cute as he was. His butt was pretty happy to sit on Corvus’ bedroll instead.

His whole body was happy as he laid down, curling around Bait.

Zym curled around them both.

* * *

6.57AM, January 19th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

Ezran woke to a feeling like Rayla ruffling his hair and almost started crying when he opened his eyes and she wasn’t there. But then he saw the purple bird, fading away before his eyes leaving one of the arrows Ethari made on the ground. And a letter.

Hey Ez!

Rayla’s handwriting! She _was_ alive! He knew, but… it was different to _know._ It really had been her, ruffling his hair. With magic.

I’m okay and so is Callum! Well no, Callum will probably correct me anyway, so no, I’m not QUITE okay yet, but I’m working on it. I’m sorry for worrying you, I was unconscious for a while, and I couldn’t get word to anyone.

That was… ‘unconscious for a while’ and ‘not quite okay yet’ was not… _good_ things but… he smiled widely, anyway. She was _going_ to be okay. She was out there to find and hug, and so was Callum.

Ezran sank back with relief, hitting Zym. The dragon yipped, poking his shoulder. Right, Zym couldn’t read yet. And he wanted to know Rayla was okay too. So he read aloud as he continued, Zym listening intently from his shoulder, Corvus from across the campfire.

I hope you’re okay in Katolis, and staying safe.

Ooops?

Callum found me a few days ago, and him and Ethari are with me on an island off the southern coast, where the Tidebound elves who rescued me took me. Callum drew a map on the back of this, where we are.

Soren, Corvus and I found the location where Viren and Claudia were staying. There’s also a map, as best as I could manage, of where that location is. Get whoever you can to the position I marked, and be ready to fight. They certainly know their location has been revealed, but Callum told me that Corvus has seen no sight of them, so they are probably laying low and masking their exact location with magic. But I remember that exact location, so I can lead people there. I doubt they’ll be expecting to see me.

Because they had intended to kill her and _did._ He… _really_ wanted to find her so he could cry.

Soren is probably with them, keep that in mind. He was captured, I was injured, it was a big mess. But it’s fixable, I promise.

It _was_ fixable. As long as they were alive, it was fixable.

The fisherman who rescued me have some choice Tidebound profanity just for you:

liquid shit = just shit, in Tidebound vernacular. They really like all things liquid.

anal fin fuckery = a general exclamation of frustration. The anal fin is the fin next to a fish’s butthole.

Some _actual_ liquid hit the letter.

Ezran smiled though, and wiped the tears away. Happy tears didn’t count as crying, he thought.

She was _really_ okay and herself, and not beaten by the bad things that had happened to her that she was _still_ keeping vague to protect him like she always did.

It took a second for him to realize that the sound he heard was not _him_ laughing but Corvus. Great relieved boughs of it, it seemed he just couldn’t stop now that he had started. And it was _really_ contagious.

Gasping, Ezran beamed happily at Corvus as he regained control.

“She’s… landed on her feet it seems.” Corvus said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “I never imagined I would be so happy to hear about… anal… fins.” And he was laughing again, bracing himself against a tree.

“Are _sure_ you’re done this time?” Ezran giggled, as the second round petered out. It was really okay if he wasn’t, he hoped Corvus got that.

“Yes. Sorry. I don’t quite know where _that_ came from,” Corvus said, straightening up and looking quite embarrassed. He didn’t need to. He was just Ez right now. “I’ve been… never mind.”

“You were alone out here for so long. Thinking Rayla and Soren, who you came here with and felt responsible for, were dead and captured, respectively. That doesn’t sound like a fun time to me.” Ezran said seriously.

“It… was not. No.” That was an understatement, he could see that, even with all of Corvus’ adult restraint on top of the emotions.

“So you were overdue. Nothing wrong with that.”

Ezran just remembered something, really important, and got his bag out. Terry’s mom had made him cookies. There was only one left, but Corvus definitely needed it more than him. He probably hadn’t had a cookie for ages, if he had run out of stuff like salt. 

“Here,” Ezran said, handing the cookie to Corvus. “Cookies make _me_ feel better.”

“I am fine, your- Ezran-” Corvus looked a bit confused. But he took it, and hah! He _did_ look a bit happier, as he ate it, so there!

Ezran returned to the letter, as Corvus sat back down, leaning against the tree and looking far more relaxed than he had. Cookies and friends being alive to teach you exotic and liquidy profanity would cheer anyone right up.

Callum is getting grumpy about the profanity, so I’ll just tell you the rest when I see you again! And I WILL!

The bird is too small to hug you like I wanted, but let me know if the hair-ruffling worked! And imagine the hug. I love you. - Rayla

There was more letter, but the next stuff was from Callum, his handwriting was rounder and flowier.

Hi Ez!

Well, Rayla told you already, but we’re both alive and safe. We have to stay here awhile, because Rayla needs to recover before we’re ready to confront Viren and Claudia again, and we can’t do it with just us and Ethari anyway. So send backup, because we’ll be ready to move out when they get here. By which I mean Amaya and soldiers and whoever Janai sends. Ethari got the Tidebound forge working, so we have written to Amaya as well, in case you are not in the same place. We will write to Corvus tomorrow, since Ethari can only work so fast.

Amaya will contact Janai. Can you contact Aanya?

I’m sorry for the way I left. I promised I wouldn’t fly off and I did. I know you agreed it was right, but still. You’re alone in Katolis now, and I’m sorry. I’m also not sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry? Rayla was alone and sick and I’m glad I’m with her, now. She’s had an even less fun time than us lately.

Yeah he _could_ imagine dying being no fun. That was actually really easy to imagine.

He was glad though, that Callum and Rayla were together where they belonged. He could breathe now that he knew they were safe and not alone. And neither was he, he thought, looking at Bait in his lap and Zym’s head on his shoulder and Corvus sitting cross-legged against a tree, listening to the letter, a rare, unguarded smile on his face.

Courtesy of Rayla, they no longer have the corrupted Sunfire staff. I am not writing where it is, in case this message is intercepted. But unless they somehow retrieved it, they no longer have it. I will send word to Lux Aurea about this, and they will no doubt come.

But they have something else. Star magic, or at least a Dark magic imitation. Who knows how they managed that, or got the components for it? But they did. Claudia can spy on people across some distance, and predict future movements to a degree. Hopefully she was only able to do the first one because of the personal connection she has to Soren - if not, it wouldn’t matter what I wrote in this letter, she could be listening at any time. I don’t think she could, but I really didn’t think anyone could do Star magic either. Be careful, is what I’m saying, that’s how she knew they were coming. She was very angry, too, at Rayla in particular, and that may well extend to you and me.

That was… magic stuff. But yeah, _not_ good at all. He couldn’t really see what he could do about it, with so much unknown.

Stick to his plan? Probably? He was _close_ and there was a _map._

I annotated the map so you will hopefully be able to read it, but Claudia or Viren would not.

Ezran giggled, glancing at one of the distance measurements on the map.

‘Bait’s all-time record for most jellytarts eaten in a day minus how many books about banther cubs were in the library’s fairytale section’ due East.

Negative four. Sooo… four miles _West?_

Callum _had_ been clever. People often forgot about negative numbers.

Hopefully, I’ll see you again in a month or two. Stay safe, and don’t come here, okay? I know it’s not fun to stay behind, but please stay safe. We’ll see you back in Katolis.

And imagine the hug. I’ll be back and give a real one. We both will.

Love, Callum

“So you did not need to come here?” Corvus asked.

Pfff, he clearly did.

Those letters were… anxious and scared. He _did_ need to come here. There were more than one way to save people. And they clearly needed their little brother and their dragon baby who was a big boy now.

Zym flopped his head down on top of his, agreeing.

Plan was the same as before, just the _order_ of the points could be shifted a bit.

One: Find Callum and Rayla. Which was as good as done, he had a map and they could get there before nightfall.

Two: Hug them for a really long time.

Three: Cry. A lot.

Four: Save them.

And also, he had found stuff, out here. Like Ez. And the stuff Ez could do, which he wasn’t at all done finding out, but the connection to the lines in the Earth was a very good start.

Right!

He had _totally_ forgot to tell Corvus about the lines in the Earth!

He bounced on his feet slightly, excited.

“No, I did need to come here!” Ezran said firmly. “And I’m still going to go find them. They _still_ need me, they had a bad time, and I want to be with them.”

“I cannot talk you out of this, I presume?”

“Nope. Not even a little bit. My mind is pretty firmly made up. Ez is _stubborn._ King Ezran had to be all… listen to everyone, maybe this and maybe that… Ez? Nope. I’m going.”

“Ez is… _separate_ from King Ezran?” Corvus looked just slightly worried.

“Not like _that,_ dummy! They’re both me. I just need a break from being King Ezran because it’s… hard. Really, _really_ hard.” Oh! Earth arcanum stuff that he _still_ hadn’t told Corvus about! “And also, found something else, Corvus. Something important. Well, I found Ez, I think?”

“You’re right here?” Corvus said, looking _more_ confused and not less. “I would hope so? You did say he was… _you._ ”

“Yes!” Ezran exclaimed. “That’s what I’m saying! I’m _here._ And I _feel_ it. Being here. The Earth underneath us. The lines in the Earth.” Ezran reached out to take Corvus’ hand, squeezing emphatically. “And I found _you_. That’s not an accident. I found the lines in the Earth. And then I found the best tracker in the five kingdoms! Don’t deny it! I know you were about to get all modest on me. But that’s not an accident.”

“Lines in the earth? Like my tracking?”

“No, they’re invisible. But I can feel them. I need to practice, I think? Because there’s a lot of them, they’re not really lines, but… directions? So there’s an infinite amount. But I’ll get it.”

“I see.” Corvus didn’t really look like he did though. Ezran held his gaze in challenge to that claim, and he relented. “No,” Corvus relented. “With all due respect, I don’t.”

“But you will, that’s my point! I’ll teach you to! It’ll be fun! Well, it almost killed Callum, so maybe _not,_ but I’m sure that was just a fluke. Ellis did it too, without all the angsting that Callum did.”

“So you mean… you connected to the Moon arcanum? Like Callum and Ellis?”

“No, dummy. The _Earth_ arcanum. Lines in the earth, get it? It’s changing how I feel the world. Connection. I was meant to find it. So I can be king. So I can be up there on the balcony, and still feel the earth and the people. I can feel it all the time, even in the air, so I know I won’t forget that the world is there and that I’m part of it. That was hard, sometimes, before.”

“So… you can do magic now?” Corvus asked, intrigued now. But he still wasn’t _getting_ it.

“No. I _am_ magic now. That’s the point! I don’t know any spells. I’m sure I could learn, but it would take me a while, I’m sure. I don’t draw nearly as well as Callum. You’ve _seen_ my handwriting. Anyway, I would rather teach you.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Yes! I know how it feels now. And I think you do too, you just don’t know it. It’s like Villads, the blind sailor I told you about? He was… _primed,_ Callum called it. To make the connection to the Sky. Like I was, but with Earth. And I think you are, too. It’s like… the campfire. It was harder for Callum to light it, because he had to get the kindling and the wood, first. But you already have that, you already _understand._ _You_ just need a spark.”

Corvus looked… just a bit overwhelmed, maybe, taking in this information. He supposed it _was_ kinda a big ask, expecting him to connect to the Earth arcanum when only four humans had connected to _any_ arcanum.

He _was_ going to be leaving Corvus with some homework, he supposed.

“Please, no more metaphors,” Corvus said, with a faint groan. “Soren… well. I don’t think I can take it. I really did not need to know what kind of pastry reflected Rayla’s personality. But I know that now, and that will probably be stuck in my head forever-”

“Jellytarts,” Ezran said, nodding sagely. “Yes, Callum told me. And also that Soren needed a cheesecake person, like me, but more his own age of course.”

“I will regret asking this, but… what is a cheesecake person?”

“According to Callum? Someone soft on top, so Soren can see the kindness easily, because he needs reassurance. But with crunchy-nut strength underneath-” Ezran giggled. _Crunchy nuts._ “But not in the dirty way I just made it sound like! It’s not a sandwich-y cheesecake!”

To his surprise, Corvus was smiling slightly, not looking even slightly annoyed at the tangents _or_ the metaphors he said he was sick of. “Who’s a sandwich then?” he asked, amused. “Opeli?”

Ezran burst out laughing. _Opeli?!_ “No! Sandwiches are sex!”

“WHAT?!” Corvus sputtered slightly. “Excuse me. But… _what?!_ And _how?_ How is that _possibly_ a metaphor, I really, _really_ hope the answer does not involve two slices of bread and mayonnai-” Corvus cut of _very_ abruptly.

Ezran dissolved in helpless giggles, actually losing his balance and clinging to Zym, who wasn’t old enough to get that joke and so was a stable if rather confused support.

That was just… so _gross_!

And it had come from _Corvus!_

“ _Now…_ it does,” Ezran gasped out, still fighting the laughter. “But originally? No. I don’t think it even _was_ a metaphor. That’s aaaall you, Corvus.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could forget… this entire conversation?”

“Tell you what? I’ll forget the _origin._ But not the thing itself. I’m sorry, but that’s too good, it’ll make Callum’s head explode, and I just can’t turn down an opportunity like that. Oh! Aanya will _love-”_

“ _Queen_ Aanya?!” Corvus looked thoroughly horrified now. “Ezran, please-”

Ezran looked pleadingly up at Corvus. “But it’s too _good_ to not share! I’ll just say… no. Taking credit would be wrong. Okay. I won’t say anything. I really promise.” Ezran thought for a bit. He was really not… _that_ good of a person. “ _If_ you tell me why you thought Opeli was the sandwich-person,” he grinned.

Corvus sighed, but he was smiling, too. “You drive a hard bargain… Ez.” He had loosened up, practically lounging against the tree. “But you have a deal. I thought of a sandwich like… a hard loaf of bread, but sometimes the filling will surprise you.”

“Wow, you’re kinda good at metaphors, for someone who claims to not like them.”

“It’s my burden to bear.”

“Corvus?” Ezran said cautiously. “You… talk a lot. It’s not a criticism, I like talking to you. You just talk a lot more than you usually do. It’s okay if _you_ aren’t okay. Even if you’re an adult. Do you want a hug?”

“That is… not necessary,” Corvus said, not even at all convincing. Even less convincing than not wanting a cookie. “Besides, you hugged me when you first saw me.”

“Yeah but that was because _I_ wanted a hug. Now I’m asking if _you_ want a hug. Totally different thing.”

Corvus dropped down to his knees to hug him.

A sensible third party but not _just_ that, Ezran thought.

A person, too.

With a bunch of Earth primal kindling just waiting to be sparked.

* * *

“So, I’m leaving as soon as possible,” Ezran said. So I can make it to Callum and Rayla before it gets dark. I’ll try to explain some Earth magic stuff before I leave, and you can work on it while I’m gone. I’ll write you when I get there. And I’ll leave you with Callum’s cube-thingie, because he thought it might be necessary to connect to an arcanum, so you should keep it, for now. And I have homework for you. Magic homework, so the fun kind. But I’m not King Ezran, so you don’t actually have to do it.” Ezran stopped, and looked at Corvus seriously. He had been all alone for a week, and now he was leaving again because Corvus was needed here, but that wasn’t fair at all.

“Corvus. You don’t have to stay here either. You could come with me,” Ezran said, seriously. They could travel together to the cliff and Zym could return for him, although that was probably a bit much to carry, but maybe they could borrow a boat-

“No,” Corvus said firmly. “My place is here. I’ll keep doing what I’ve already been doing. Keep an eye on the area, for signs of Viren or Claudia, for them mustering some kind of attack, moving on civilians, or moving out just in general. I think they’re laying low, but I should still stay. They might not know I’m here, I did not store my things in the saddle bags. Either way, they are certainly waiting for things to blow over after the blaze they caused. They burned down a huge patch of forest. The local Earthblood elves are on guard because of that.”

“Yeah,” Ezran agreed, remembering what the Earthblood elves had told him. “Terry said so, and he’s not even from around here. They know about that, at least as far away as Pantas. So I guess if Viren and Claudia have any sense, they’re laying low.”

“They _did_ burn down a forest though,” Corvus mused. “I still wonder why they did that. They were hard to find in the first place, they had clearly been careful.”

“The letter from Callum and Rayla said why, I think,” Ezran said, frowning. “Or, well, it didn’t _really_ , but together with the letter Claudia sent to Callum it does. Claudia did that. To get to Rayla. She was _really_ angry in that letter. And she knew things, like that Callum and Rayla are a thing, the letter she sent to Callum kinda implied that. Well, now we know how she knew them, at least. The magic spying thing. That’s really creepy to think about.”

“She was jealous, I’m sure. If Rayla did not tell her about her relationship with Callum, and I do not see why she would, then Claudia must have overheard her talking to Soren about it. I was not in the habit of discussing my love life with her, so it must have been Soren.”

“I don’t think she liked Callum nearly as much as he liked her.”

“No,” Corvus said, to his surprise. “I meant she was jealous of Rayla’s relationship with _Soren._ You didn’t travel with them for weeks. They were sickening. Relentlessly in each other’s business, constantly going off on tangents and enabling the most immature-” Corvus’ face was equal parts frustration and fondness. “They were very good friends, is my point. And in a way that would be obvious to anyone overhearing _any_ conversation between them. I’m sure Claudia cannot have been pleased to hear her estranged brother being so chummy with the person who killed her father. I remember Claudia, from back when I was stationed at Katol Keep. Did she have many friends, apart from Soren and Callum? I got the feeling she kind of… unnerved most people a bit.”

“She had me too!” Ezran protested.

It was really hard to think about the stuff Claudia had done. She might have been a bit weird and a lot into Dark magic, but she had been sweet underneath, and he had know her his whole life. She had stolen jellytarts with him and comforted him when Callum had been a jerk and told the best and weirdest jokes ever and snorted like a dork when she laughed.

She had also killed Rayla, and even if she was still alive, she had hurt her a lot, and Callum and him too. That had really happened.

And even before that, she had stood and watched and _smiled_ while Soren had sobbed on the ground about killing his dad. It was hard to forget a moment like that, because he had been _so_ scared and she had not cared at all how scared he was or how upset Soren was, she had _smiled._

And that letter she had sent to Callum had been the meanest letter he had ever read, and he had read some doozies. One he had gotten from some Neolandian noble, had called Callum a degenerate and his love an abomination, but that wasn’t even nearly as mean because it wasn’t as _personal._

“I see your point,” Ezran said. Claudia hadn’t ‘unnerved’ him for the _first_ 10 years of his life, but she sure did _now._ Even if that wasn’t the _only_ feelings he had for her, because the bad things she had done wouldn’t go away, but… neither would 10 years of being sweet even when her dad had scolded her for _being_ too sweet. “I feel bad for her. Even with all the bad things she did. I still feel bad She isn’t like her dad. Not yet, I don’t think. She _feels_ things. For other people. At least she did, I know.”

“She’s dangerous, Ezran.”

“I know that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Up next: Ezran and Zym arrive on the Tidebound island


	24. 5.6 Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran arrives at the Tidebound island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented and kudos'ed on the last chapters! You're all awesome and make my day :)
> 
> Now for some MORE reunions, lol. I swear this is the last one for a while :D

4.24PM, January 19th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Ezran found them on a pretty, warm beach, curled up together in some giant sponge under a palm tree.

Their eyes were locked on the ocean when he first saw them, then shifted to each other as he got closer.

Ew.

He stepped on some crunchy debris though, and then they both whipped around to stare at him.

They… definitely _hadn’t_ been expecting him.

Callum got up first, walking towards him, eyes wide and kinda numbly stretching his arms out for him.

Ezran completely ignored him, running past him to tackle Rayla, just getting up from the giganto-sponge, throwing his arms around her and knocking her back into the yielding softness.

She was really, actually here and hugging him, she was okay, not dead and not dying.

Callum’s arms wrapped around both of them, easing them up to sitting from the laughing pile.

“Oh hello to you too, Ez,” he laughed, still stunned but more just… happy. “I’m just your only brother.”

“Pfft, I wasn’t going crazy with worry about _you_ for the last week,” Ezran said, even though he kinda was at that, too. But Rayla was the one who he hadn’t seen for a whole _month_. “Give me a break.”

“ _You_ were going crazy?” Callum wondered. “Really? You were so sensible about things, unlike me.”

“That’s the point. _You_ were freaking out, that meant I couldn’t. Didn’t mean I wasn’t worried.” And he _still_ was.

He drew back to look at both of them. They looked… worn. Battered. Especially Rayla, her short-sleeved shirt baring bruises and cuts at her upper arm. Her wrist, the one that was bound for _him_ and still hurt her sometimes, was in some bulky brace or bandage thing. And more worrying, she looked pale and exhausted, and just slightly… off. “Are you guys okay? You look kinda… scuffed up. Especially Rayla.”

Rayla pushed back his voluminous hair to kiss his forehead, just hugging him tighter. “I’ll be okay, Ez.” Yeah, so that was not reassuring at _all._ Rayla’s definition of ‘okay’ was so broad it was practically useless. She noticed his look though, and relented. A bit, at least. “I had a… bad time, though.”

Oh Rayla. That was definitely something of an understatement.

“I know.” Ezran said seriously. “You _died._ That’s a _really_ bad time.”

“Yeah, bad all around,” she grinned. “Depressing atmosphere. Terrible lighting. Temperature never at a comfortable level. Zero out of five stars. Do not recommend.”

Ezran giggled. Funny _and_ horrible. Callum didn’t really look amused though. It _had_ taken him a while too, to appreciate Amaya’s ‘if your girlfriend jumps off a mountain’ jokes. But he didn’t say anything, because he understood, at least, that him and Rayla dealt with stuff in a different way.

“Ez?” Callum asked, recovering from the stunned shock of him showing up in the middle of their deserted island cuddle session. “How are you _here?_ How are you… _already_ here?”

Oh right. They had sent him a message in the early morning, probably slightly before dawn, and he had showed up within 12 hours when they thought he was weeks of travel away.

They also didn’t know about Zym, hiding in the leaves of one of the palm trees further back along the beach.

“Oh, I forgot!” Ezran said, excited. “Zym is here! He’s been so worried for you both, he’ll be so happy to see you!”

“Zym?!” Callum’s eyes went wide and horrified, as the implications of that dawned on him. “ _Here?_ You flew. You. And a baby dragon. Flew. From Katolis. Alone. Ezran, what were you _thinking?!”_

Yeah, so _that_ wasn’t fair at all! “ _You_ flew here too!” Ezran shot back. “ _More_ alone than I was! _Without_ a dragon with you. And without enough water or enough proper rations, or your Skywing necklace or your cube or-”

“Ezran, I _wasn’t_ thinking, that’s the _point!”_ Callum was almost yelling but he caught himself, and all the fired up temper-energy seemed to leave him, as he reached out to take Ezran’s hand. “And… and it was… it was horrible,” he admitted quietly. “The trip here, alone. It might be the worst time I’ve ever had.” There was darkness in his face now, and his hand shook around his. “Ez, the thought of _you_ doing _anything_ like what I did-”

“I _didn’t_ do what you did,” Ezran explained patiently, squeezing his brother’s hand in comfort. He was really all… wound up. He definitely needed his delightful little brother and ridiculously cute dragon baby. “Because we’re different people and the dumb idea face is _your_ look. The trip here, for me? It was a lot less horrible than being king would have been.”

Callum seemed slightly mollified, as he looked him over, sinking to his knees to examine him, like he _wasn’t_ almost 12 years old and could _tell_ them if he was hurt. He examined him _thoroughly_ too, even for Callum. “You do look… okay,” he relented, eventually. “Tired but…”

“Ez looks a damn sight better than you did when you arrived,” Rayla said, pressing a kiss to the top of Callum’s head from her standing position. She was not teasing him though. Like… the words were, but the rest of her wasn’t.

Ezran was pretty sure he looked better than Callum did _now._ Never mind the scratches on his face or the worn look… he was too tense and kinda… perma-worrying, like he got sometimes. And he moved to help Rayla _very_ quickly, and his face got all… twisty… when she put her hand on his shoulder to lower herself down to sit too.

“Oh! I forgot!” Ezran said, remembering some _good_ stuff he had to tell Callum. “Callum! You’re gonna love it! Or be really jealous! Maybe both!”

“I’ll take my chances.” Callum smiled, reaching out to grip his shoulder, steadying his bouncy energy.

“Okay,” Ezran said, annoyed now that he had left the cube with Corvus and couldn’t do any kind of dramatic reveal thing. He didn’t even have any flashy magic. He _was_ magic. Non-flashy, but warm and important magic. “Okay. I’m magic now. Like you guys. I went to the Earthblood elf place, and talked to some people, ate some choice cookies, watched a frog and then… p-shaw! Earth magic powers!” He spread his arms out flamboyantly, but watched Callum’s face carefully.

 _Both_. Definitely both. But the shock gave way to a wide smile. “You mean you have…”

“The Earth arcanum! Yes! Cool right?”

“Uh. _Yes_.” Callum still looked pretty stunned, but his smile was fond and proud. “Very. _How?”_

“Well, a lot less angst and drama than _your_ first arcanum connection, I can tell you that!” Ez laughed. “But you did always like to complicate things for yourself.”

“ _Complicate things?_ ” Callum snorted. “Really? That’s what you’re going with here?”

“Yep,” Ezran nodded happily, pretty satisfied, overall, with the grand reveal. There was something to be said for just playing it cool. “I just went for a walk. High-fived a tree. And high-foured a super-weird Earthblood elf. I don’t think that did the trick though. I think it was the tree.”

“So, you… left Katolis, Amaya… the throne. _Zym_ left his mom. And you’re… magic now. Okay.” Callum clearly needed some time to digest things.

Pure horror suddenly spread on Rayla’s face. “Ez, _does Zubeia know?!”_ she asked, even though she wasn’t a Dragonguard anymore. “Do you _realize_ how fussy she is about Zym? He got kidnapped once before he was even born-”

“Zubeia knows!” Ezran assured her. “And Amaya knows. She’s regent now. We should probably write them both though, now that that’s possible, and let them know where me and Zym are-”

“We should _definitely_ do that,” Callum agreed. “Very, _very_ definitely. There are… a lot of things we should talk about.” But then he smiled, all soft and happy. “We should say hi to Zym though, first. You can get him, it’s safe here.”

“Where _is_ Zym, Ezran,” Rayla asked looking around them.

“In the palm fronds somewhere,” Ezran explained. “He’s fine, having a great time, because he’s never seen a palm tree before, and those big, hard nuts are like a fun challenge for him! I didn’t bring him, because I figured I’d better avoid a diplomatic incident, and _not_ wander right in here with-” He cut off abruptly, because Rayla kinda… sob-hiccupped, out of the blue. Callum drew back in alarm, and so did Ezran.

“Oh no!” Ezran said, looking up at her in concern. She was probably hurt a lot worse than she had said. “Are you hurting?” And _now_ it occurred to him how careful Callum’s arms were around them both, and how not-careful-at-all _he_ had been. He had thought it was _funny_ when they tumbled into the sponge, but she would have caught him without losing her balance at any other point in time. “Oh no, did _I_ hurt you? You’re hurt and I just went and hugged you all Amaya-style, I’m so-”

“No!” She gasped out, pulling him back close to her. Reassuring, even as _she_ was still crying. “No. It’s not you. It’s Soren. I- I _left_ him!” She was shaking and Callum and Ezran both pressed back, close to her. “It’s- his 20th birthday today… and… and I promised him we would risk a diplomatic incident and… find a pub. And… and I _left_ him!”

“You didn’t have a lot of choice!” Callum said heatedly, but his arms around her, his thumb stroking across the back of her neck were so gentle. “You know we can’t go charging back there, we agreed,” Callum said softly, into her hair, before turning to Ezran to explain. “Rayla needs to recover first, she’s been very sick. Claudia’s Star magic means we can’t bet on any kind of surprise attack. So we agreed. We can’t attack just two people-”

“Five! Well. Seven? There’s me and Zym and Bait, too! And Ethari and Corvus.” Ezran said, but he knew it still wasn’t enough. Rayla was injured, Bait was little and delicious, Zym was a kid and so was he. He didn’t know Ethari, but Rayla had said he was a gentle kind of person and a craftsman, not a warrior. It wasn’t enough.

“It’s not enough,” Callum said, agreeing with what he hadn’t said.

Rayla might _not_ agree, but at least he was here now, and could join Callum in solidly outvoting her. They decided together.

They couldn’t do anything for poor Rayla, still crying. Or for Soren, still captured. They couldn’t tell her it was okay because it wasn’t, or that Soren would be okay, because they didn’t know that.

It wasn’t his fault, he knew. He had not upset her, just set off some upset she had had inside all along. He still felt bad. And he wanted to cry too, that _was_ on the itinerary.

Find Callum and Rayla. Check.

Hug them both for a really long time. In progress.

Cry for a really long time. Starting now.

Ezran sniffed, climbing into Callum’s lap to not squish Rayla more than he already had. He put his head gently against her upper arm. She wasn’t making a sound anymore, just crying quietly into Callum’s shoulder, just _tears._

It was awful, but maybe it was needed.

* * *

Ezran started to notice his surroundings more, as time passed and they all cried and then stopped crying, because you couldn’t just keep crying even if there were lots of things to cry about, it didn’t work like that, somehow.

Ezran went and got Zym and Bait, because Zym couldn’t be trusted to not headbutt palm trees if left unsupervised, and they all settled in - and in Zym’s case _around_ \- the big sponge, as the sun began to set.

It wasn’t cold at all any more, Ezran’s whole body was relaxing. The warmth of the sun was replaced with the secondhand warmth of the moon, as Callum and Rayla both pressed against him. Warm moonlight cuddles on cold nights were the best.

Callum went and called someone from inside the big sea shell, and they got food from down below the ocean delivered by a grinning old blue man.

Underwater food delivery was apparently a thing, here, and a pretty good thing at that, he thought. No cookies, but there was some surprisingly good noodle-y seaweed and crispy cracker things.

Ezran cuddled up to Rayla and Zym, leaning against the palm tree together.

She hadn’t complained but she really looked so tired. Worst injuries had been to her lungs and head, Callum had explained, things you couldn’t see. Poor Rayla.

He could see it in how _careful_ Callum was being with her, how badly she had been hurt. And in the fact that Rayla wasn’t even complaining much about the fussing. That meant either she actually relented to the fussing being warranted or Callum had been so upset she was going along with it. Neither were very good options.

They were here though. Here and alive to hug and to cheer up. Callum definitely needed cheering up, he had been all tense with a layer of pretend-normal Callum on top. Poor Callum, too.

Callum was pretty relaxed _now_ though, his head leaning against Rayla’s thigh, snoring softly, in sync with Bait asleep on his stomach. Too many noodles always made Bait sleepy. In Callum’s case it was probably… not enough sleep that made him sleepy. That made most people sleepy, really.

Rayla was stroking Callum’s messy hair absentmindedly with her uninjured right hand. Her fingers carded through the brown hair, a bit too short to be properly floofy, the haircut he had hated. At least it was neither clean nor neat now, so he probably liked it better. Ezran reached out to place his hand over hers on top of Callum’s head.

His hand was bigger than hers? It was definitely wider, what with him having five fingers, but he was pretty sure it was longer too. That was new?

“Your hands are really tiny,” Ezran giggled. He _had_ noticed that before, and ‘her cute little hands’ had definitely been a part of one of Callum’s sappy rants about all the things he missed about her. But it was different, seeing it like this, alongside his.

“They’re _not!”_ Rayla complained. _“Your_ whole family just have massive hands!”

“Callum’s are massive, mine are normal and yours are eeny-weeny.” Ezran said. This was a fair compromise, surely.

Rayla just laughed. “Nah, you’ll catch up to join Callum in the massive hand band.” Rayla leaned against the top of Ezran’s hair, squeezing his hand with her definitely-smaller one.

They both dozed half-way off until Rayla was jerked to _very_ awake by Callum twitching in his sleep, his brow furrowing.

Rayla stroked across his brow, then shook him lightly, cupping his cheek to wake him as he started moving more and some pained noise escaped his throat. His eyes opened halfway, whatever dark place he had been still clinging to him. But he was reassured, seeing Rayla, because he fell right back asleep, his hand around hers loosening.

Bait settled back into him in his old spot, twisting to make a kinda nest out of Callum’s tunic. It was Bait’s way. Callum would get it. It was basically a little hug.

“He has nightmares again?” Ezran asked Rayla, worried.

Dumb question really, what else was that supposed to have been. And Rayla had woken him _really_ quickly, he was willing to bet it got a whole lot worse than what _he_ had just seen. He had _some_ idea that was why Callum hadn’t ever wanted to have a sleepover with him in their dad’s bed, even though it was really big and he didn’t snore.

But it was also… _dad’s bed…_ so he had never been quite sure.

Rayla nodded, taking his fist that he didn’t even know _was_ a fist, into her hand, then moved them into Callum’s open loosely cupped hand, waiting and with space enough for both of theirs.

“I thought, when I met him,” Rayla said absentmindedly, returning to a lighter subject as she stroked fondly across Callum’s broad palm. “That his hands and head and heart were too big for the rest of him. And you _are_ brothers. Makes sense you’re the same way.”

“Nah, for me it’s not my head. Just the hair. Throws off the eye.” Ezran laughed.

“And _your_ giant mittens are just throwing off the eye, making _my_ perfectly average-sized hands look small-”

She held out both her hands palm up, to demonstrate, spreading her fingers. It was not really convincing at _all_. The bulky brace just made her hand look tinier.

Ezran took both of them in his. “Our mom, mine and Callum’s? She said that. What you said. About the… head, hand and heart. I don’t remember her, but Callum does. He really missed her, growing up.”

“I know,” Rayla said. “He told me. When we… got together, actually. Right after. And he’s told me about her, too, Sarai. I think he missed her but… more than that. She was _missing_ from his life, and he never quite… compensated for that missing piece. I definitely know _that_ feeling.”

“Callum’s told me about her so often, since I was really little, it feels like I do remember her, sometimes. I didn’t see it then, like I do now, though. The missing thing. I didn’t really understand it, what went wrong between Callum and our dad. But now I do, and it’s too late, because-” Ezran stopped and sniffed, because apparently he _could_ cry more, when it was about something else.

Their dad was _dead_ and it was too late to fix what would have been… maybe not _easy,_ because he had been learning that too, lately, that relationships _weren’t_ always easy even when you loved each other. But it had been a very fixable mess, dad and Callum. Love was pretty good glue.

Rayla cupped his wet cheeks to wipe the tears away. “It’s not too late to understand your brother better. That’s a good thing.” Rayla pulled him tighter into her, but she winced when he leaned his head against her shoulder, and he shifted slightly to lean against her chest instead. Sometimes you had to compensate for sore spots. That was okay. “You’re growing up, Ez,” she said gently. “I do see that, and I try to remind Callum, but I think he remembers you being 3 years old and bouncing on his stomach singing his birthday song.”

Ezran snorted. “Rayla. I love you. A lot. But you’re not actually a lot better than Callum, there. Just different. Like… you’ll swear in from of me and tell me about sandwiches but… but you’re protecting me too… from danger but not _just_ from danger. Zym said it, when he came and got me, that you protected and saved him, and Callum made him less afraid and now he should do the same for you. He’s right. You’ve done that for me too, and now I’ll do it for you. I’ll save you.”

“But I’m… okay?” she said, a bit baffled. “I don’t need saving?”

But she did.

She was pretending to be more okay than she was, because she always did that. She had flinched when Callum left just to go into the sea shell, she had noticed _immediately_ when he shifted in his sleep, she was moving all careful so she was definitely still hurting.

And she was _scared._ She had been down in that water for a whole night, he had figured, because it had been pretty early evening when they had tried to track Viren, Corvus had said, and mid-morning when her lotus had sank, according to Ethari’s letter. She had been hurt and alone and really, really scared, he bet, for so long. And then she had _died_ and then been really sick and _still_ alone.

Her eyes were dark now, even as she’d said she didn’t need saving.

The blue man that brought them food had saved her from the water, she had said, and then again, from herself.

But… not _all_ of her.

“I think… you do,” Ezran muttered into her chest, but spoke clearer as he continued. “In a different way. That you’re still down there, in the water, inside your head. That a part of you still are. And Callum too. He’s still afraid.”

Ezran looked down at his brother, back to calm sleep but… he really didn’t look great, dark circles under his eyes, half-healed scratches along the side of his face.

“Did he fly into a tree or something…” Ezran asked.

“Yes,” Rayla said plainly. “That’s exactly what he did.” _Really?_ And Rayla didn’t look amused at all, and that would usually be the kind of thing she gave Callum shit for.

“He wasn’t… badly hurt or something?” Callum seemed physically okay, but maybe he was hiding things too-

“No. But he could have been. _Multiple times._ And he fell asleep _while_ flying, when he was on his way here. And he almost used dark magic again, got as far as trapping a moth in his hands. And he was spiraling so badly, stranded on some deserted piece of rock that he couldn’t make a simple spell work.” Rayla’s heartbeat sped up beneath his ear. “Ez… I’m worried about him. He cast Historia Viventum, at the top of the cliff where Claudia pushed me. And he can see it now. You know how his memory is. He can see it now, and does, I can tell when he does because-”

“He’s scared,” Ezran said, remembering the way Callum had left Katolis. “He’s _been_ scared since we got that letter from Claudia. And even before. He talked to be about it, after you left. Remember, he said he would, after our big feelings time? That’s a big, big feeling, for him, you being in danger somewhere far away. And you weren’t just in danger, you _died._ That’s _literally_ his worst nightmare, you falling off a cliff somewhere and dying.”

“I know that,” Rayla said. “About Callum.”

“Do you know about _you_?”

“That’s… harder. It always was, for me.”

Ezran knew _that_. And she was trying, he could tell. He put his arms around her, trying to tell her with everything he had that she didn’t… need to be okay for him to love her. If her mind or body or spirit was still down there, he would help her back up. Callum couldn’t, because he was down there too.

Down below the ocean.

Ezran put his head against her chest, her treacherous, too-fast heartbeat, her too-shallow breaths. She put her head on top of his.

Her heart had stopped. Her hand… and the rest of her body… was still healing.

That left her head? Which definitely wasn’t fine either. “How’s your head?” he asked, to be sure.

She snickered faintly. “Right now? Kinda achy, to be completely honest. It’ll get better after I sleep.”

That was not what he had meant, but he knew the answer to what he _had_ meant.

“Callum found you down there, and you feel better now, because you’re together, and you’re stronger when you’re together, but… you’re _both_ still down there, in a dark place down below the ocean.”

She didn’t contradict him, which was an answer in itself, really. “So you’ll save us?” she asked, instead.

“Yes!” Ezran pulled at her good hand. “I will. King Ezran is not here right now. I’m Ez. And Zym. And we’re here to save you.”

Zym lightly nudged Rayla’s head, his tail curling to encircle all of them.

“Oh Ez. You already did.” Rayla smiled, squeezing him tightly, and reaching up to ruffle Zym’s mane. “Don’t you know that? It was you. Even before it was Callum. It was you. I don’t know if it was ever an option… killing you. But I know it wasn’t, after meeting you. After you hugged me that day by the river, and told me you weren’t afraid of me because I was good inside-”

“But you _are!”_ Ezran said, emphatically. It really wasn’t a big deal to say that things were the way they were.

But Rayla shook her head slightly. “I didn’t think so, then,” she said. “And for a long time, after. Still, sometimes.”

“I know. That’s one of the things you aren’t telling me… all the way. But I can tell.”

“I’m trying. It’s hard. I was raised to be an assassi-” She looked down at him, brow furrowed, hesitating. “Ez? Are you sure you want to hear it? It’s… adult.”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “ _You_ weren’t an adult when _you_ were dealing with it. According to Aunt Amaya you’re not quite an adult _now_ either.”

“According to me, too,” another, deep voice agreed, and Ezran jumped slightly.

A tall, broad Moonshadow elf was walking towards them, only the slight ripples in the sea giving away where he had come from.

Ethari?

Almost-certainly-Ethari stroked lightly across Rayla’s hair as he sat down to join them. Like he was reminding himself she was really there.

“Ezran?” the man asked, sticking out his large hand out for Ezran to shake, the human way. “I am Ethari, Rayla’s father. And very pleased to meet you.”

“Me too! I’ve heard a _lot_ about you! And you made me the coolest birthday present ever! The Moon magic binoculars? I lent them to Corvus when he went on that mission with Soren and Rayla, he needed them more. But I really loved them! I watched the swifts nesting all Spring!”

“You are very welcome,” Ethari said. “You accepted my daughter when her own people did not. When _I…_ did not. And… I will… I would like to hear too, Rayla. What you were about to say to Ezran. I will not interrupt or judge, I promise. But if you would rather talk to Ezran alone-”

Rayla reached out to grip Ethari’s hand. “No! I don’t… I would like you to hear, too.”

She took a deep breath, that Ezran noted wasn’t completely successful. Invisible hurt inside her.

“I said the vow, in the forest outside Katol Keep,” Rayla said, pressing ahead. “’My heart for Xadia’. I bound myself to killing you and your father. That means that to the Moonshadow, I was already dead. I succeeded or I died trying. Those were the options. And that was in my head for so long. I felt like I didn’t matter, for so long. You know that. And because of my parents, too. I wasn’t sure who I was to them, if I was important to them and it kinda… went inside me, that feeling. I’m still not sure about them, either. I know _you’re_ sure, Ethari. But I didn’t know them like you did. I hear it, when you tell me they loved me, but I don’t… _feel_ it.”

“That _is_ adult,” Ezran said quietly. “It’s really awful that… that _you_ weren’t.”

“Yes,” Ethari said, very firmly and with something like… shame? But not _hidden_ like shame usually was.

“And that _I_ wasn’t,” Ezran continued.

“That too,” Ethari agreed, with a different kind of shame.

“It was Runaan’s world,” Rayla said, looking up at Ethari. “I didn’t fit, and neither did you, and that probably… made it easier to see that it was wrong. But Runaan _did_ fit. And he’s not dead now, and-”

“He’s _not?!”_ Ezran gasped. That was… that was a big and confusing feeling.

“We don’t know. Sorry Ez. It’s a really… sensitive subject. For Callum. And me. And Ethari. And you, I can imagine. We’ve been kinda… pushing it aside, because we just don’t _know_. Viren might… have him. We don’t know for sure. We don’t know _anything_ for sure,” Her jaw set in that familiar way, like when she planted her feet on the inside. “But I’ll damn well find out.”

“The world is the world, Rayla,” Ethari said, reassuring. “That won’t change because of Runaan. My mind won’t change either. I lost Runaan, and almost you too, because I looked at a wrong thing that was happening, right in front of my eyes and did not stop it. I saw it was wrong, what Runaan did, the path he was leading you, and I did nothing, and I could have. Should have. By the time I tried it was too late. You were too big, and I couldn’t tell you what to do anymore.” Ethari reached out to engulf both her hands. “Rayla.” His dark fingers stroked across the rigid material of the brace, pointedly. “You paid a price that should not have been yours to pay. And you still… you still think there is one. That it’s on _you_.” His hands went to cup her face. “And Rayla? _That_ is on _me._ ”

“No!” Rayla pulled away, and stood up rapidly, _too_ rapidly, because she wavered on her feet, briefly. “No,” she repeated, staring him down, defiantly. “You’re _still_ wrong! Just in a different way! Runaan was wrong too! It’s not on you, either! The future… the world we’re trying to build and… it doesn’t include any score to settle! There’s no _price._ That’s the _point!”_

Ezran stood up too, reaching out to take Rayla’s angry fist, clenched so hard under the rigid brace it was probably hurting, and Ethari’s large, rough hand with pretty purple swirls along its back. “Because it’s not a price to be paid, making the world better than it was. It’s not a ‘have to’ it’s a ‘want’.”

“It’s not duty,” Callum said, sitting up now, half his hair sticking straight up from the saltwater and the way he had been sleeping. But there was no trace of sleepiness in his face as he stood, reaching out to take Rayla’s and Ethari’s hands, like Ezran had. “It’s love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Now, news for this story's schedule - I'm changing to updating only once every two weeks, because my workload this semester is intense, and my number of other VIPs keep growing. I want to get going with the soon-half-written Rayla version of Downtime in Wartime on the weeks I'm not posting this story, but next week it's Mess of Things on Tuesday instead, because that's official release day of Through the Moon. I'm probably also posting a oneshot about Soren and Callum having a chat about love and attraction sometime this weekend or next :)
> 
> So next chapter is on Tuesday October 13th
> 
> Up next: Soren 'celebrates' the end of teenagehood, Callum faces his too grown up brother and Aanya makes an effort to be LESS grown up with help from Ellis


	25. 5.7 Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soren celebrates his 20th birthday, and Callum faces his too-grown-up brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and kudos'ed on the last chapter! I'm so happy the trio is back together :)
> 
> And thank you all for being patient with the new schedule! It's definitely way more sustainable with every 2 weeks. I should have had a break between the seasons to nail down the plot details of S5, and now I'm paying for it, haha! 
> 
> I moved the Aanya&Ellis section from this chapter to the next, since it was getting long and it fit better there anyway.
> 
> Anyway, birthday angst, coming up :D

  
  


8.14PM, January 19th, 0AB, Hanari Wilds, Xadia

“I thought you guys were out of flour,” Soren looking at Claudia, seated across from him as he ate his Dark-magic-less pancakes. Claudia had assured him and he believed her because they really _weren’t_ fluffy. And there was no syrup or jam or anything, but at least it wasn’t horse meat.

It wasn’t like he was picky about food, usually. But he wasn’t _usually_ called to eat _his_ horse, who had been named Bella and had had kind eyes and had pushed her warm, soft muzzle in his ear on cold days.

And that wasn’t even nearly the worst thing wrong.

“I saved some for today,” Claudia explained, smiling but… not all the way through. “Happy birthday, Soren.” Pfft. _She_ wasn’t even happy.

“Oh, it’s awesome. This is everything I ever imagined my 20th birthday to be,” Soren said, spreading his arms flamboyantly to gesture at the damp cave and the creepy bones in the corner and the doorway that led to wherever his dad and the bug-pal-man elf were. “That was sarcasm. I learned some. I don’t know why people do it though. I figured it would be less sad than the truth? But it really isn’t.”

“Maybe it’s not really _you?”_

“Maybe not. But it’s nice to _understand_ it, even if it’s not me. I don’t actually _like_ feeling stupid.”

“I’m sorry,” Claudia said, and seemed like she meant it. But she was pretty good at _seeming_ like… stuff. “If I made you feel stupid. I don’t think you’re stupid, okay?" She _had,_ but it was maybe not her fault? Definitely less her fault than their dad’s. He was really obvious about it, and _definitely_ meant to make him feel stupid. “And I’m sorry your birthday is a big bummer.”

It was really weird, that she would apologize for things like stupid birthdays and making him feel stupid, when most people made him feel stupid, anyway. That was just the way it was, he thought, when most people were smarter than you.

She had done… _so_ much worse, and it was like she didn’t even see it, that it had been bad.

“It’s okay,” Soren said. The birthday thing… yeah, not that important, what with everything else, really. “I kinda… forgot it was my birthday. _Can_ you forget, when you don’t actually know to begin with? I guess I’m… no longer a teenager then.”

“How does it feel?” Claudia asked. “To be all grown up?”

“Uh, that same, I think? I think I grew up a while ago. After I left you and dad. I felt way older, in not very long.”

“Me too.” Claudia looked down. She seemed quiet. But like… the kinda quiet that really _was_ too quiet and not boring at all. The kinda quiet that came before something bad. “I had to. Without you.”

“You felt more like an older sister, sometimes?” Soren wondered. “Most of the time, really. Why did _I_ make _you_ feel older by leaving?”

She thought for a while, before answering. “It was like… dad never liked the… _fun_ … that we had. But when we were two, it didn’t matter, because he was outvoted and he was our grumpy-puss dad and we were his kids. But without you, I wasn’t his _kid_ anymore. I was his daughter. That’s different.” His _only_ child.

That was a really scary thought, to have your dad _just_ focused on you. At least, when it came to _their_ dad. He hadn’t wanted to leave Claudia with him, but-

But he was her little brother, in anything but age. He couldn’t protect her and he could never make her do anything she didn’t want. Couldn’t even make her not hurt herself for _him._ She hadn’t even _asked,_ back then, just done it and changed afterwards.

“I have a present for you,” Claudia smiled. Soren smiled back, because her presents were usually really fun, although sometimes super weird, but… usually really fun, even then. And he could use some fun, right about now. He did wonder though, _where_ she would get a present.

“You can’t leave the cave, can you?” Soren asked, confused. Like, she couldn’t have _known_ she would have him captured on his birthday. Unless the Star magic charades dealie had showed her his really sad cave-birthday.

“Not physically, no.”

“Where did you get me a present then? Unless…? Do you have a special room with them? Or make them?”

“A present does not have to be a physical thing, Soren. Just something you want.”

“Yeah, dad’s presents were usually really heavy history _books_ and such, really _not_ what I wanted.”

“You’ll want this,” Claudia said, sounding sure but… she wasn’t smiling anymore.

“What?”

“Your friend back. Maybe. I am… less confident she is dead, than I was.”

Soren breathed in hard, almost choking on a mouthful of fluff-less pancake. “What?! R-really?” he gasped.

It was _really_ stupid to feel this hopeful about a ‘maybe’, and he also _knew…_ he knew Claudia would lie to get what she wanted.

She had done that a lot, growing up, and so had he. They hadn’t thought that was wrong, really, until they did. Or he did, anyway. Claudia had too, back at the Moon Nexus, but… they had both changed and kinda… in opposite directions.

“Yes,” Claudia said. “Callum has not sought us out. He was in the area, I saw him. I can’t leave the cave, but my spirit can. Not far though, not without an anchor. You are an anchor to me, that’s how I spied on you, before you came here. An anchor doesn’t have to be a person though, and we made one at the top of a hill and I-”

“Yeah, I’m not following.”

“It’s like astral projection-”

“Ass protection? Yeah, that would be useful, I guess. Like… you can spy on people so you know they’re coming and can protect your ass?”

Claudia laughed, bright and unburdened, and for a minute, it was like it was two years ago and it was _simple_ how he felt about her. It still _was,_ in a way, because he didn’t really love her less, it just hurt more to love her.

“Yeah,” she grinned, wiping tears from her eyes. “Ass protection. Ah, I guess it’s not so important, how I did it. I did cool magic, alright? And I saw Callum, or at least, a flying humanoid, so Callum or a Skywing elf. Far away, zigzagging, searching. I haven’t seen him in a while though. Days. So, he’s left, we assume.”

“More ass?”

“ _GUESS,_ Soren! We _guess_ that he’s left,” Claudia was grinning now, seeming so much younger, almost really _like_ his little sister. And he hasn’t returned. He might still be looking for her, that is a possibility. If she did die he would not have found her, I can assure you of that. He has not attempted to track us either, and he could have. I ass- would _think_ he has access to moon opals and know the same spell Rayla used to find us, if they’re as… _tight…_ as you claim and he came here looking for her. And neither of us have been warded. What do you think he’s been doing in the four, five days since I last saw him?”

Looked for Rayla. Definitely. Callum was too smart, he hoped, to try to find Claudia or Viren or him, on his own. Callum got really angry too, though. Claudia knew that too. If he thought Rayla was dead-

Stupid _hope_ again.

“The point is, Rayla may live, and if she does, I am sure we would both want to know that, if for different reasons. And if we work together, we can find out. With the ass protection, see?”

“You said… she was dead. You said she was… definitely dead.”

“I made an error. Which Aaravos informed me of. Thoroughly. Moonshadow elves can draw warmth from the moon. Especially when it’s full.” Uh. Yeah. He really didn’t need some bug man to tell him something _that_ obvious.

“Well, duh,” Soren scoffed. “ _I_ could have told you that.”

“ _What?!”_

“Yeah, I mean… Rayla told me. And she’s all snuggly warm on cold nights as long as the moon’s out-” He cut off, because Rayla didn’t really like most other people knowing she was all cuddly. “But even before then? Those Moonshadow assassins in their sexy tight clothes with no sleeves and-”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Uh, no. Maybe if you spent some time getting to know an elf you’d know.” Soren shot back, triumphant. Ha. Good luck for her to poke holes in _that_ argument.

She… probably _could_ though. Had. He had been sure before, about things, and her and his dad had made him… _not._

But _no more._

He had practiced making his mind up about things, and holding on to the thing when he had made his mind up. His opinions weren’t _wrong_ just because the words he used weren’t as long or he wasn’t as _sure_ about them.

“Well?!” Claudia scoffed impatiently. “You want it or not? Confirmation that she’s alive?”

“No,” Soren said. Sure. Completely.

“WHAT?!” Claudia exclaimed, her shock melting into just… confusion. “But you… were sad that she was dead. Why would you not-”

“And I’ll keep being sad, if that’s what it takes to not give you and dad information you can use to hurt my friends! Don’t you get that at all? Caring about someone else more? I know you do… did. When I got hurt. You let Ezran go, because you cared about me, more.”

“It’s not like that. You will be the conduit. Not me. I need _your_ connection. So _you_ will see her, if she’s alive. I won’t.”

“But you’ll know? If the spell works. You’ll know.”

“Yes.”

“Still no, then,” Soren said, metaphorically planting his feet because that was what a metaphor was. He thought. Was pretty sure. “I’ll keep being sad, thanks and no thanks.”

Claudia had planted her feet too, though. Not metaphorically, but… _actually._ Or both? Maybe? And she was smiling in a way that he usually liked because it meant some fun idea or prank but… _now?_ He really _didn’t_ like it.

“It’s rude to refuse a gift,” she said, crossing her arms. “Besides, I don’t actually need your permission. I just need you to think about her. And you are.”

The spotted purple flower crushed beneath her fingers, dark purple energy dripping from her fist.

He just had to… _not_ think about his… probably dead friend. And his other friend, looking for her, probably really upset-

This was so _unfair!_

Claudia _knew_ how bad he was at the ‘don’t think about a pink hippopotamus’ game-

* * *

It was different and weird.

Good-weird though, because really, most places were better than that cave.

Just darkness at first, but even so, it was clear he was somewhere else.

Not the damp cold of the cave that seeped through your clothes. The dim light no matter the time of day.

Balmy warmth.

Smell of the sea.

And a pretty beach, lit by bright moonlight, shaping into realness around him.

And Rayla was _there._ Or at least a Moonshadow girl with the same kinda horns, since he couldn’t actually see her face.

But it was her, he thought, right in front of him, lying in some giant cushiony thing. It was only half-relief because she wasn’t moving and her back turned to him. She could still be _dead._

But she was not alone, Callum was there, too, his arms with the cool magic tattoos around her. Ezran and Bait, not sleeping, but sitting up, looking out over the sea, like tiny guardians.

 _Zym?!_ Really _big_ Zym? Curled around all of them.

And this was… this might not be real at all, because what was Ezran and Zym doing here, and why was it warm when it was the middle of winter?

He could see… rather more of Rayla than she might appreciate, he realized.

Callum wouldn’t be cuddling her half-naked _corpse,_ right? That would just be _super_ weird and creepy. And Ezran was looking peaceful and happy, and Soren thought he would look sadder, if Rayla was dead and his brother had cracked enough to be cuddling her half-naked corpse.

Callum wouldn’t be cuddling some other Moonshadow girl either. That was… actually _way_ less likely than the naked corpse thing.

It seemed so real. Claudia couldn’t just… _fake_ all this? Right?

She didn’t even know all the stuff she needed to know _to_ fake it? Maybe?

But _he_ knew, and Claudia was using _his_ head to cast this spell.

Maybe Claudia was just… using _his_ pervy brain that had _definitely_ wondered once or twice what Rayla looked like naked.

He looked closer at them. He could walk around them, he found. There were weird green bandages and bruises that had definitely been way worse, across Rayla bare shoulder. And she was not _actually_ half-naked, just wearing some flimsy elf-robe that made her _look_ that way from behind. Sexy elf clothes again. It was a thing. A… thing he had been thinking about, too, right before. This was definitely just… Claudia messing with him.

Callum was not wearing much either though, and he really didn’t go around imagining _Callum_ naked, he grew up with him and just… no. It must be nice weather, where they were at. He could _feel_ the nice weather, even without the snuggly-warm-moonlight bonus warmth.

He had to think about things. He was maybe not the smartest, but he had a noodly brain like anyone else’s, Rayla had said.

Or maybe that lonely, cold and damp cave just made him imagine his friends somewhere safe and warm and all together.

It didn’t make sense at all, that Ezran was here, it was all _him_.

If this wasn’t real, then Rayla was still dead, Claudia had still killed her, and she was just messing with his head to make him like her and give her information.

If this _was_ real, then Claudia had hurt and definitely still _tried_ to kill Rayla, and now she was making him spy on his friends.

Either way, she hadn’t _asked_ , like she hadn’t asked, when she had healed his back. She had done something really bad to herself for him, and she hadn’t asked if he wanted her to.

And she hadn’t asked now either, and she said it was for _him,_ but he didn’t even know if any of this was _real_.

What a fucking shitty birthday present.

And the warmth was fading away now, and he was going back to a damp cave with his shitty sister and shitty dad and dead horse and probably _still_ dead friend, except now he just got reminded about her-

* * *

Soren gasped at the damp, cold air.

This room felt like it was choking him, compared to the dream. Worse in every way.

And his body was back now, and it was like the _feelings_ he hadn’t felt properly without it, were back too.

And Rayla _wasn’t_ on that pretty beach, she was _dead,_ it was all _Claudia,_ his _sister-_

He hugged his knees, helpless to the sobs forcing themselves out.

“What?! She’s dying or something?!”

“Fuck off, Claudia!” He yelled, warm tears coming out with it.

“It succeeded. So she’s alive. I won’t press you for anything else, okay? And you know now. I didn’t kill her.”

“How the fuck do I _know_ that?! I don’t know _you_! I don’t _trust_ you! Maybe you just… showed me some illusion to make me like you. Maybe you did that… all along-”

“How about assuming that I did _not_ , huh?!” Claudia snapped.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” Soren muttered, into his knees. He didn’t even want to _look_ at her. “I forgive you pretty much all the time, but maybe that’s… not right. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why you’re like this, think you can hurt me, force me into things, and I’ll still just… talk to you like it’s okay.”

“If you want to spend your first day out of teenage-hood a childish baby-Sor-Bear and just not talk to me, I can’t stop you,” Claudia scoffed.

“What?! No! You _really_ don’t get it. I want to love you, Claudia. I _do_ love you. But I want to love you like an adult, not like a little kid who thinks their dad is perfect when he _really_ isn’t, like I did. And I need to _think_.”

It wasn’t childish just because she said so. Adults didn’t have to just listen to the smartest person in the room because their dad said so.

“Okay,” she said, soft now, but he didn’t _trust_ it. “I’ll go. I have things to do… anyway.”

She left him to enjoy the rest of this just amazing alone-in-a-cave birthday.

Being an adult was awesome, really.

Sarcasm.

* * *

11.37PM, January 19th, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

Ezran was… he was _here._

_Involved._

It was bad enough that Rayla would be going back there, into danger, because recovered on not, he knew she wouldn’t stay behind when the time came.

Not there was Ezran here, too. ‘Magic now’ or not, he didn’t actually have _any_ battle skills, Ezran was _worse_ than he was at sword fighting. And he was not staying behind either.

“What’s the plan?” Ezran asked. “If you don’t have one yet, I can help you make one. Aanya is defending the kingdoms, she’s with Ellis and-” He bounced happily. “Ooh! I should send them a letter! Can Ethari make me an arrow-bird? Oh, can I get the bird to tickle Aanya’s feet? She’s really ticklish there-”

“Yeah,” Callum smiled. “We can do that. We can do it together, I can show you. Use my Moon connection and your Aanya- or Ellis connection. So it’ll be from you.” They had to send other letters though, too. Make plans. And Ethari could only work so fast. “We have to… sorry, Ez. We have another letter we need to write. Especially now. So tonight?”

“What other letter?”

Callum hesitated. Ezran was involved but… this was all… he really wished he wasn’t. This wasn’t a fun wholesome adventure for the whole family, it was hard and horrible and dangerous.

He had to explain though, at least the information part, and not necessarily the dark feelings and fear and horribleness.

“We have to write Corvus again,” Callum said, turning to Rayla. “You told me about Aaravos, and I heard, too, on the cliff. Remember the letter my dad wrote me? It mentioned that name. ‘The arch mage Aaravos, a master of all six primal sources.’ And the cube was known as ‘the key of Aaravos’ and would ‘unlock something of great power, in Xadia’.”

Callum breathed deeply. It might not be the same person at all. It was just… weird. Harrow’s letter had given the impression that Aaravos was some old story, hundreds of years in the past. Maybe he was not real at all. Maybe Claudia meant like… a symbol, not an actual living person.

He did know they had to find out. They couldn’t go in blind, that had literally gotten Rayla killed.

“You know I tried triangulating the place where the cube was pulled to? It was far to the East, way off any map, weeks of travel into unknown territory. We obviously can’t go _there,_ but… we should try to get more information. We can’t go in blind. And… I should go get the cube. If the Aaravos Claudia talked about is the same as the one who owned the cube then… we should go get it. Soon. And Corvus too, if he wants to come.“

“He doesn’t,” Ezran said. “I asked. He’s watching the area, and doing his Earth magic homework I left him with. That’s important too.” He was planting his feet, looking stubbornly up at Callum.

Corvus could be in danger though. Hell, they were _all_ in danger, but… He just couldn’t say that to Ezran right now. _He_ was scared enough for all of them.

Ezran stepped closer, and poked his stomach uncomfortably. “Hey! You’re not telling me everything. Neither of you are, but I already had this talk with Rayla, so she’s good, and can go sleep, but you-” Ezran pointed at Callum, sternly. “We need to have words.”

Rayla grinned, clapping his shoulder. “I think I will. She kissed his nose and Ezran’s forehead, before retreating into the sea shell, suppressing laughter, the traitor.

Ezran was staring him down, hands on his hips and feet planted.

“You’re keeping things from me, because you think you need to protect me from things,” Ezran said. “But it’s hurting you. And me. Making distance none of us want, or at least _I_ don’t. You wouldn’t even have a sleepover in my room back in Katolis, even though the bed is really big and I won’t drool on you!”

Oh. More things they had not talked about. And not the bad things he had thought of, but still kind of… related. And he _should_ explain. Ezran was here, and they would be sharing a bedroom for the first time since they left Katolis on their first adventure.

“That’s not why,” Callum said quietly. “It not… that I don’t _want_ to. I have really bad nightmares, Ez. I want to hold you like I did when we were smaller and you had a bad dream, but- but I can’t do that to you. I scream sometimes, and I kind of flail around. It’s scary to be around. And I’ve hit Rayla more than once in my sleep.” He had to explain it, because Ezran was right, that it made distance.

“You’ve _hit_ Rayla?” The boy’s eyes widened, too innocent. “Is she okay? Are _you?_ ”

“Yeah.” _He_ got a lot more upset than her when that happened. “We’ve argued about that. Pretty heatedly too, a few times.”

“How often does that happen?”

“It was not often at all anymore, like once every couple of months. But more, since she left. And since… I got here, too.”

“Was that why you were grumpy and complaining about everything, last time you stayed with me, while Rayla was in Xadia?”

“Yeah,” Callum said, although it didn’t seem quite fair to blame his behavior during the day on how crappy his nights had been back then. “Well, part of it was just being a jerk. Not like I’m cured of that.”

“You’ve gotten a lot better.”

“What?”

“You didn’t… _know?_ ” Ezran asked. “I thought you must be trying really hard, because you’re a _lot_ better.”

“No. Maybe I should have, but… no. No particular effort was exerted being less of a jerk.”

“Maybe you just feel better. I was a jerk when _I_ was upset. Remember? And you used to be upset a lot more often when we were younger. Hide in our room and in your head and not want to come out.”

“Yeah. I remember,” Callum said quietly. They weren’t great memories. Crazy things had happened, and in many ways he was less okay than he had been when he was 14. But he was not _unhappy_. Not like he had been. Not deep and abiding unhappiness with his life and his future and himself. How did _Soren_ get that before he did? That being unhappy could make you a jerk?

“It wouldn’t be _you_ hurting me,” Ezran said, coming forward to hug him instead of poking. “Just some dumb nightmare you can’t control. The risk is really low too. It happened a few times with Rayla, who you sleep with _every night,_ and only back when the nightmares happened more often. So you’re really turning down the delightful company of your only brother because of a slim chance of something mildly bad happening to me? You realize a lot worse stuff has happened to me, right? I saw it too, the battlefield. I have nightmares too. Alone.” Oh no. He pulled Ez close to him.

“You want to go make a really big sponge bed and sleep with me and Rayla?” he asked?

“Yes? That was the _whole_ point of what I just said. Dummy.” Ezran pressed his head up under his chin, even though he was getting too tall for that, really.

“You’re right,” Callum said. “That’s the same thing I agreed on with Rayla. That we couldn’t let fear of a bad thing happening keep us from the good things. That’s always has been hard for me, that. You said it, I go inside my head and when I’m there I often think about all the bad things that could happen. So they seem bigger, to me, than they really are, sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know. I talked to Rayla too, about that. Because she’s really good at getting you to come out of your head.”

“I know.”

“She said your dumb head wasn’t dumb, it just needed company sometimes. And I’m _here!_ And I make pretty good company. _”_ Ezran’s hand came up to pat his head. “Hello head. Nice to meet you. Stop bugging my brother, okay? Or we’ll have words.” He poked his skull. Warmth spread throughout him. He _was_ lucky.

“My dumb head _doesn’t_ really make good company.” Callum chuckled a bit, although it was not that funny. “It’s pretty depressing and circular sometimes.”

“Uh it’s a head, of course it’s circular.”

Callum smiled, despite himself and all the hard things. “You’re more than ‘pretty good’ company, Ez,” he said fondly.

“I know, I was being modest.” Ez grinned, in mock self-importance. “I spend the whole day, every day, with politicians. And you honestly want to tell _me_ about depressing and circular?” Ez said, now shaking with contagious laughter, although that really was not that funny either. But Callum laughed too, relieved bouts of it.

They were _all_ growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> More Mess of Things next, I think, Sunday at the latest. And I posted a commission sickfic over the weekend, In Sickness, that was referenced back in chapter 5.1 of this story.
> 
> Up next: Challenges of Queening - feat. Amaya, Janai, Aanya and Zubeia


	26. 5.8 Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenges of queening, ft. Amaya, Janai, Aanya and Zubeia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented and kudos'ed on this story and interacted with me on other platforms! I really appreciate it, it means so much to know people are still reading this far into it.
> 
> Let's see what the resident queens are up to!

11.06PM, January 21st, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

Despite the heavy weight of fatigue and responsibility and worry, Amaya smiled as she pushed open the door to her bedroom.

It had been another long day of dealing with the aftermath of that political gathering, letters and queries and some petty trade route dispute. She really had let other people deal with a lot of minutia, and now it was biting her in the ass, all the things she wasn’t sufficiently informed about.

It had been so long into the evening that Janai was asleep, despite having said she would wait up. She didn’t blame her; she really hadn’t expected it would take that long.

Amaya pulled of her stiff vestments and boots, and went into the balcony barefoot in her underwear relishing the feeling of the winter air, even cold as it was.

It was amazing how much more beautiful the softly falling snow was, when you knew your family was safe, at least for now.

She looked at her fiery queen as she went back inside, magnificently beautiful too, even curled up in a blanket-hogging nest, to ward off the Katolis winter temperatures. It was a shame to wake her, but the last letter she had gotten had been different and urgent and uplifting, not the kind of thing she could wait till morning to share with Janai.

So, in a fit of, to be completely honest, not-that-unusual immaturity, Amaya sat on the bed next to her and snuck her cold feet through the blanket tangle to press against her girlfriend’s always-warm skin.

Amaya felt the vibrations of the indignant squeal through her feet as Janai flinched away, but just laughed, flopping down next to her on the bed, unrepentant of her crime.

 _What?_ Janai signed, one hand poking out of her nest, exasperated, her eyes barely cracking open.

Amaya leaned down to kiss her, but she was smiling too much to really get into it. What was _wrong_ with her that she genuinely just wanted to talk now that she was happy?

Well. Happ _ier._

 _What?_ Janai repeated, but she was smiling now too, and her eyes were open.

 _Good news! I got a letter from Callum AND Ezran, and… well. News. Information. Most of it good. Rayla is alive. Injured but alive. My nephews found her, and they are all together on a Tidebound island somewhere far away. Azymondias is apparently ‘a very good shellfisherman’. Soren was captured like Claudia wrote, and still is, but Corvus is fine and keeping an eye on things in the area. Callum and Rayla are intended so I will have… more family to worry about in… hopefully a few years’ time, at least._ Amaya grinned widely. _Turtles can be as big as the rug in Ezran’s bedroom. Claudia can do some Dark magic version of Star primal magic. ‘Anal fin fuckery’ is Ezran’s new favorite expression._

Janai was watching her hands and face intently, a slow smile replacing the sleepiness, her warm hands reaching out stroke across her ankles and the tops of her feet, since she couldn’t hold her hands while Amaya was signing.

Amaya continued the summary.

 _Bait is trying to teach Azymondias to be properly grumpy, and so far, failing._ _Rayla stole back the Sunfire staff that was stolen from Lux Aurea and threw it in the sea, but they are making plans to retrieve it. Sea water can be really warm and clear, bright turquoise like Callum’s most expensive pigments. Rayla is trying really hard to be a less terrible sick person, so it’s okay that she doesn’t succeed ALL the time. Callum is not succeeding at all at staying out of his head, but they’ve talked about that and they’re working on it. Some old wizard named Aaravos is maybe teamed up with Viren and Claudia. Oh, and Tidebound furniture is super comfy, like the sponges Callum has for watercolors, but really, really big._

It was probably very obvious that Ezran had written most of the letter, Amaya thought.

Her smiled got a bit crooked as she continued. _That was… pretty much the CONTENT. Then there are the… implications. Callum is either still angry with me or believe that I am still angry with him. He is also… rattled by what happened, and so is Rayla. And there are… maps and things. I know where the kids are. Where Corvus is. A good approximation of where Viren and Claudia are._

But it was _good_ news. It was better than she had hoped for, really, _definitely_ better than some of the scenarios she had imagined over the past days. She had feared she would lose the entirety of her remaining family members and really be… queen for real. That letter was good news.

Even if the ‘might lose the entirety of her remaining family members’ part was not quite far enough off the table for her liking.

Janai pressed close, kissing her mouth and cheeks and the rounded edges of her ears that she found endlessly fascinating.

 _I am so glad,_ she signed. _I was worried too. For your nephews. Your future niece. My future king. For you._

_Me?_

_Of course? You told me about Sarai and… I know, too, what it is to lose family._

_I know._ Amaya drew her close. She was thinking about Khessa, she could tell. She carefully laid her head against her chest, leaning her cheek against the top of her head. The stupid, poky Sunfire crown wouldn’t allow that, so she rarely got to do it.

Amaya kissed the top of her forehead and signed letters into the palm of Janai’s hand, so she didn’t have to draw away to talk to her. It was slow, but some things were more important than efficiency.

_Y O U C A N T A L K_

Janai drew back, after a while, to look at her. She was frowning, not upset but… troubled. _Guilty._

_The way you are with your family. The way you talk about nephews, your sister. It is different, for me._

_Families are different,_ Amaya signed. _But you feel BAD about it._

 _I feel bad because… I do not miss her._ Janai signed. _I still love and grieve, but I do not miss her._

Feelings weren’t wrong though. Sunfire elves even did a kind of very passionate and physical Big Feelings Time, but there were still some that were still taboo.

 _Khessa was…_ Janai hesitated. Yeah, speaking ill of the dead was one of those things that were frowned upon pretty universally, Amaya had discovered. Humans and elves really were more alike than she had ever imagined. But she cared far, far more about Janai than about what was frowned upon. Their _relationship_ was pretty universally frowned upon.

 _Khessa was not always kind._ Janai continued.

Khessa had been borderline sadistic and _more_ than borderline extremist, Amaya had gathered from what Janai had said previously and her own encounter with her. She had not said that then, nor did she say it now, because Janai had loved her.

 _To me._ Janai added, looking away as she signed.

Oh.

 _That_ was new. And rage-inducing. Janai did not complain about things, she really could take a whole lot of anal fin fuckery. Yeah, she was adopting that, it was going in her mental vocabulary and she already knew the signs she could use for it.

Poor Gren.

And poor Janai, because… she _had_ taken it. For her whole life, probably.

Sometimes Amaya hated having to use her hands to talk, like now, when she could not hug and touch her girlfriend _while_ talking to her.

She reached out to touch her, the strong lines of her neck, up to cup her cheeks. And she waited for Janai to look up, to look her in the eyes, tell her without words that it was okay, she could continue… or not… without judgement.

They weren’t doing anything tonight, at least. They had until morning to decide. And talk.

* * *

Amaya woke abruptly when the window burst open, but a gust of cold, refreshing winter air was not the worst way to wake up.

Broken clasp she supposed, the wind was rattling the hinges.

Janai shivered, grumbled and then disappeared under the covers entirely, like a living hot water bottle. She liked it hot, Amaya knew.

Well, cool morning air _and_ hot girlfriend was the best of both worlds, really. Even if the rest of the world had gone to shit in very short order.

A booming roar she couldn’t hear but _feel,_ damn near shook the room.

Oops. That might be some of that shit.

Janai popped up, eyes wide and signing the translation. _Queen Amaya._

Shit indeed.

Queen… _Zubeia._

* * *

6.58AM, January 22nd, 0AB, Marshadan Manor, Duren

Queen Aanya woke up to the squeak of bedsprings.

Ellis was evidently not done bouncing, even after last night. It occurred to her that mattresses stuffed with hay did not bounce, and Ellis’ life had been _entirely_ bounce-less thus far. Hers had merely been bounce-deficient, not quite as egregious.

Aanya did not mind. She usually woke up to and empty room and right away started thinking about some speech she had to give at some future point. There _was_ even a future speech, ripe for the obsessing about, and it did not tempt at all, compared to Ellis’ grinning face.

She wished she could just wing it, for a change. Callum definitely had, when had addressed the delegates at the gathering. Figuratively _and_ literally.

And oh, now the speech _was_ in her head.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ellis asked, settling down with a final squeak.

“A very boring speech, I am afraid,” Aanya sighed.

“You can’t just… improvise? See what feels right? You’re really good at talking all pretty and convincing.”

That was very honest, but also part of the problem. She _was_ good at that. And because of that, and because of the influence and power, the position, the _queen-ness -_ Aanya was rather annoyed there was no appropriate word for this, because she really felt there ought to be - behind the persuasiveness… she had to consider what she said so much more.

It had to be the right thing, and worded the right way, so there was no chance of it being understood the _wrong_ way.

“I am,” Aanya said, because false modesty would be actually detrimental to the point she was trying to make. “A lot of people will be listening. Different people with different outlooks and different cultures and upbringing. And they _all_ need to understand the message in mostly the same way.”

“ _You_ know your message though,” Ellis wondered.

“Yes.”

“So it’s not the thing itself, but how it’s presented? Like an illusion!”

“Not… not quite. The thing is _there._ ”

Ellis looked thoughtful. “We should invite my grandpa here. He’s really nice, but… he’s kinda… backwards. He doesn’t like elves at all. And he doesn’t even know anything about them, it’s not like he’s ever met one. Like, just in general, too, he doesn’t know very much, but is really sure about the things he doesn’t know? It’s weird. My parents say he’s just old, and I shouldn’t try to convince him. But the point is, he’s _really_ stubborn and _really_ sure about his wrong ideas. You could run your speech past him. If you can convince him, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be okay.”

That was… a very interesting idea. And even if it didn’t work, it might be nice, meeting Ellis’ grandpa. She had never had one.

“The key is that it doesn’t really have to look _exactly_ like what it is,” Ellis continued. “All the details sometimes just confuse things. It has to kinda _feel_ right. Move right.” She grinned, in a terrifying way that Aanya was getting to know. “Or move _wrong,_ if you’re going for the mind-melting horror kinda illusion.”

“So, you are saying the words do not matter as much as I think?” Aanya asked. “The details?”

“Maybe? I think it matters that you’re sure. That you present the same thing from different angles. The differences that happens. The backside.” Ellis giggled. “You wouldn’t _believe_ how many illusionists forget about the _butt!”_

“The butt?” Aanya asked, but she listened intently. It was like Ellis said, there were angles… backsides to situations she could not see from the position as queen.

“Yeah, like… Callum looks all wrong as a Moonshadow,” Ellis explained. “Like, he can pass, I suppose, if someone was having a kinda slow day and maybe didn’t see many Moonshadow elves. His musculature and build and the way he moves is wrong. His attitude is _all_ wrong. But he makes a good Skywing elf. Because his body is right and his mind is right.”

“So… it is an illusion on top of a butt that is real?” Aanya mused, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Exactly! The illusion has to fit, see? Be what it already looks like? So like, your speech is like an illusion that has to look like itself? And different people see it from different angles, and that makes it harder, but _you_ know what it looks like from all around. I can tell. You know all the bits. My grandpa doesn’t need to know all the bits, he would just latch onto the first bit and think about that bit while you’re explaining the rest of the whole thing. It’s not lying. It just has to be different, to look like itself.”

It made sense. It did. It was definitely fascinating, what Ellis was saying.

“Like, I was showing grandpa my moon powers,” Ellis continued. “-and I made a blue sparrow, because they live up on the tallest mountains and he hasn’t been there since he was young, and I thought it would make him happy to see one again. So I made it look like what a blue sparrow looks like. But he thought it wasn’t right. I had to make it look like what he _thought_ the sparrow was. Bluer and bigger, because that’s how he remembered them. You see?”

“You are saying that I have to present what people expect and not reality?” Aanya asked.

“No. I’m saying they’re the same thing, to my grandpa, to the people listening. That _was_ his blue sparrow.”

Aanya slumped back in the bed, thinking about blue sparrows and… Moon arcanum stuff, her speech forgotten because this was not about _one_ speech.

The bird that flew through the window and landed on the bed in front of her a few minutes later interrupted the sparrow-thoughts, because it was not a sparrow or really _any_ bird she knew, large and gold-colored and… _sparkly_ , shaking its magnificent wings as it settled.

“Ooh,” Ellis squealed, excited. “That’s not a normal messenger bird! It’s solid inside. And it’s travelled a long way, I can tell. I’ve never seen Nuntius Avem bound to an object before, that’s _hard_ to do! Must be important!”

The bird nipped at Aanya’s bare feet hitting a ticklish spot with pinpoint precision, and nuzzled Ellis’ outstretched hand before it dissolved, leaving a white metal arrow.

“It’s from Ezran!” Ellis claimed, sounding very sure.

It _had_ felt weirdly like Ezran. And Ezran was the only person she knew who dared to tickle her feet.

Aanya grinned widely as they unrolled the scroll, because it _was_ from Ezran.

Hi Aanya and Ellis!

I hope you’re having fun! I am! I found Callum and Rayla, and they’re okay. Well. Rayla will get there. She had a REALLY not fun time, so be nice to her when you see her next.

We’re with the Tidebound elves. They’re blue and live underwater and make really tasty noodles that aren’t even noodles but seaweed! Not so many cakes though, so I won’t stay here, even though it’s really pretty and there’s a beach with warm water in winter, and baby turtles and lots of friendly sea animals, and the profanity is top-notch! But I miss you guys! And I’ll be back and be King Ezran.

I got something else, too. The Earth arcanum. Cool, right? It was actually kinda hard, but if Callum asks, then I high-fived a tree and ‘p-shaw, Earth magic powers!’. Okay? So, I’m magic now.

“P-shaw?” Aanya asked, wondering aloud.

“Yeah,” Ellis said, snickering. “It’s how Rayla described her Moon magic powers. Lujanne was not very happy.”

And I’m feeling better about being king. It’s good to be away from it for a little while. I think I was too close to all the small things to see the WHOLE thing. And I needed to step away a bit. It’s going to be hard, I know, and it’ll probably not get any easier. But it’s important, and I’ll get better at it. And I have you two!

I love you both! But not like THAT! That would be weird. I hope you’re having fun together. Aanya! Defend the kingdoms! Ellis! Make sure Aanya eats breakfast and has fun once in a while! I know I’m leaving you with the harder task, Ellis, I’m really sorry.

There was more, written by Callum, it seemed, and more kind of… informative. How to plan, moving forward.

They _should_ get going on that. Guess the bouncing was over, Aanya thought, frowning at the information. Viren. Claudia. An ‘Aaravos’ person, sharing their name with some arc mage of legend-

“Jellytarts! Jellytarts!”

Aanya snapped her head up from the letter, and saw Ezran’s grinning face.

Well, illusion-Ez’s.

Ellis brought him out once in a while for trips to the village and walks in the fields, to sell the story that he was here with them.

“Jellytarts!” Illusion-Ez repeated.

Aanya couldn’t help herself. It was not queenly at _all._ And might be just slightly mean. But the giggles were ascending, up from her stomach.

Illusion-Ez crossed his arms, his expression changing to a not very convincing scowl, because that wasn’t really an expression Ellis had the best reference for. “Are you mocking the tarts,” he asked. “That’s a dealbreaker. We can’t be friends anymore.”

“Oh no, King Ezran,” she gasped, though bubbling laughter. “I would never dream of such an impropriety!”

“Is impropriety a new kind of frosting?” he asked. “For jellytarts?”

Aanya sputtered again, wiping her eyes. “Ellis, are you _sure_ this isn’t mean?”

Ellis just grinned, widely and happily. “Ez asked me to make sure you have fun! Least he can do is contribute! We’ll get to the rest of the letter, alright? After breakfast?”

“Jellytarts?” Illusion-Ezran asked, such dramatic and heartfelt plea in his voice that Ellis made _herself_ laugh so hard she lost her concentration and the illusion fizzled.

“Yeah,” Aanya said, relaxing slightly because really, the letter might be full of heavy things but it was _good_ news, and she wanted to celebrate and push the grown-up queening job she had to do until after… “Jellytarts.”

* * *

8.38AM, January 22nd, 0AB, Coltein Hold, Katolis

Amaya and Janai entered the fortunately large and sturdy balcony, where Queen Zubeia was perched, waiting not so patiently, the air crackling with how not-patiently she was waiting.

It was not unexpected, especially if Zubeia had not received the letter that she had.

She greeted the dragon queen with a universal greeting, tugging her cloak around herself in the near-gale out here. Janai looked even less happy about the frigid winds, but she had promised to translate, and she would.

Two queens on one balcony. Or three, if acting regents counted.

 _Queen Zubeia,_ Amaya greeted, meeting the towering figure, unflinching. She had done nothing wrong, and would not apologize for things _going_ wrong, _or_ the action of someone else’s rebellious child, her own were plenty in that regard.

Queen Zubeia was outwardly composed but… the wind was howling, an out-of-place gale where there had been quiet all week, and the air was almost crackling with electricity. The wind was whipping up the loose snow that had fallen overnight.

The people in the courtyard were feeling it too. Amaya was not worried Zubeia would not go on a civilian-slaughtering rampage, but her presence here, her emotions affecting the surroundings like they were… she could still do damage.

“Let us talk,” Zubeia said, not a roar, but Amaya still felt the vibrations up through her feet.

 _Indeed,_ Amaya agreed. _Let us talk. First off, there have been no kidnapping, as I am sure you know. Prince Azymondias came and left here of his own volition._

Janai translated dutifully, even though Amaya knew she would have put that far more diplomatically, because Zubeia was _her_ queen.

“I know!” Queen Zubeia boomed. “That is why I am here to _talk!_ ”

But they had nothing to apologize for. If Zubeia thought Ezran was responsible for that ill-advised adventures, Amaya would put her straight. There were two equally reckless and rebellious royal children, and Zym had come _here_ to spirit Ezran away.

They were… _their_ children. Zubeia would understand that, she hoped. She was just… very statick-y right now, like had happened around Callum back when he had shouted at her before he left about fighting Claudia naked. Zubeia was very probably in the fighting-Claudia-naked camp, right now, which Amaya would not mind in the slightest if it, except that she could also decimate this entire castle in very short order.

Power came with responsibility. Someone 50 feet tall could not just come here and throw their weight around, because that was a _lot_ of weight.

 _We should talk calmly or elsewhere,_ Amaya added, gesturing at the people down in the courtyard. She _felt_ the worried mutters without hearing them, saw the way people leaned their heads close.

Zubeia nodded, with some deep breath that was… _very_ deep, and knelt to let them both climb on her back.

* * *

It was _exhilarating!_

A powerful queen between her legs and another wrapped around her from behind… well, it didn’t get much better than that, did it?

The worry had felt like an oppressive blanket since that letter from Viren’s manipulative little shit of a daughter, but it was falling away now, at least temporarily.

This was flying on an entirely different scale than the inferno-toothed tigers, the tigers used magic to create heat under their wings, lighter than the air surrounding them and pushing them upwards, they were not nearly this _fast._

Zubeia shaped the wind around them, and expertly so, controlling the currents of the air itself, like Callum could, but certainly not this well or this easily.

Janai was tense though, pressing close, her face against the back of her neck. Maybe she had felt safer carried by a creature that resonated with her own arcanum? Regardless of the reason, Amaya found the familiar warm hands locked together around her waist, and wrote across the back off them, some shorthand they had developed, for when they could not face each other.

_Calm._

_Are you okay?_

_Love._

They set down on a field, barren in the winter and entirely desolate, far from the nearest village.

“We _do_ need to talk,” Zubeia said, seeming to have calmed down a bit during the flight. “I would have done better to send my Dragonguards to talk to you, but this cannot wait. You got a letter too, I expect?”

_Yes._

Good. They could then assume they had the same information: Rayla was alive, and the kids safe and all together on some tropical island far away.

If she had had any faith that they would _stay_ safe, she could have gone about her ruling business and let them have their no-doubt much-needed vacation, but she decidedly did not. Viren and Claudia still needed to be dealt with, and Rayla was unbelievably stubborn about things like that, and Callum had been plenty unhappy about her going off without him the first time.

 _Maybe_ the older two could at least convince Ezran and Azymondias to stay on the island, but she doubted it.

“They are safe _for now,_ ” Zubeia said, agreeing with her unspoken concern. “They are not _safe_.”

 _No,_ Amaya agreed. _The collective recklessness on that island is… something._ And it was also possible for Viren and Claudia to find them, although Callum had assured her that there were remote underwater bunkers, if it came to that.

“Yes. But that is not the danger I speak of. Did your letter mention Aaravos?”

_Yes. Some ancient wizard? A myth? Should we not focus on the threat we know to be REAL?_

“I am. That is why I am here. I could have flown towards the island. I could have been scolding my idiot child right now. But I am _here._ ”

 _I am glad,_ Amaya said. Good thing _someone_ stopped to think and discuss a plan of attack before flying off across the continent. _We should discuss a plan of attack, before we go get our kids and Vire-_

“No!” Zubeia boomed. “We save our children by finding _Aaravos_. We ignore Viren and Claudia, for now. Those two Dark mages would have laid waste to my home and killed my child. Viren killed my husband. So trust me when I say this: _Aaravos_ is our priority. In comparison, Viren and his daughter are children playing with forces they do not understand. We find Aaravos. That is why I am here.” Zubeia looked at Janai. “We do not go to the Earthblood lands where Viren was seen, or the Tidebound island where our children are. We go to Lux Aurea, and that is your dominion, Queen Janai.”

“Lux Aurea?” Janai said, confused. “Why Lux Aurea?”

“Aaravos is there, or at least, that is my hope. But I will not risk the life of my child on hope.”

 _Please do feel free to get to the explanation part anytime,_ Amaya signed. Fucking cryptic arcane mysteries. _You are saying there is a long-dead, superpowered wizard in Lux Aurea? How is that possible?_

“The mirror.” Zubeia’s patience was forced, the air was vibrating with electricity again. “Viren stole it from my home two years ago. After he was defeated, I did not dispute its transport to the Lux Aurea vaults. It was already stolen from me once and I was weakened and my Dragonguard in shambles. We still do not know what Viren did with it, but I _do_ know what it _is._ It is Aaravos’ prison, or at least a window into it. My husband imprisoned him, hundreds of years ago. He’s still in there, as of Viren’s defeat, I made sure of that before allowing the mirror to be taken to the vaults. But we should ensure that that is still the case, and if not, we-“ Zubeia actually looked unsure, such a foreign expression on a creature so vastly old and powerful. “Well, I do not know,” she admitted.

“We cross that bridge when we get to it,” Janai said tightly.

 _If he was so dangerous, then why was he allowed to live?_ Amaya asked. What was it with letting extremely powerful and dangerous entities live, after having no qualms slaughtering their minions?

“You say that like it would be a simple thing,” Zubeia said. “It is not. Many have tried. Many have thought they succeeded. My husband was the most powerful creature in the world, and imprisonment was the best he could do. Do you understand _now?!”_

_No. Aaravos is imprisoned in the mirror? Then why is he suddenly popping up? Unless Claudia was lying, which… trust ME here, that is a very real possibility._

“I do not know. I know we need to find out.”

Janai had been quiet, translating with barely any interjections, but now she stood up, the queen that she was. “Queen Zubeia,” she said. “I agree. We go to Lux Aurea.” She looked too rigid. Too tense. “There are things we do not know. It went very wrong, the scouting mission for Claudia and Viren. We cannot go in blind, like they did. There are things we never found out, in regards to Viren. How he… killed my sister… my queen… _everyone_ at the Sun Spire. I need to know too. You have kept things from us. Asked us to store an item without informing us what it was. I understand why you did that, why that knowledge would be dangerous, but… We _share_ knowledge, from now on. At least us. Three queens.”

 _The full truth,_ Amaya signed, remembering.

Rayla had said that at some point, and she agreed with the sentiment that it was required for strong relationships.

They would share, as well as _find_ that truth.

“The full truth,” Zubeia agreed.

 _Okay._ Amaya nodded at the dragon queen and leant over to briefly kiss the Sunfire queen because her and Janai’s relationship was part of the full truth. _Then we go to Lux Aurea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed a bit of return to plot, and visiting some different characters!
> 
> Up next: Rayla faces her liquid nemesis, with a little help from her friends.  
> I'll try to have it up as usual in two weeks on Nov 10th, but I might have to skip that week because I have project deadlines coming up.


	27. 5.9 Down to the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla faces her liquid nemesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I know, it's been 84 years :D I hope at least a few of you are still reading this. 
> 
> I always really appreciate hearing your thought and feedback, it’s so motivating for me, especially when the writing doesn’t come easy on its own, and it hasn’t lately.
> 
> It's been a ROUGH semester, so I just couldn't keep up with this story, and got out of the groove of writing it, but I haven't abandoned it, and will try to return to every-two-week posting.
> 
> While this story was on hiatus, I've posted the first 10 chapters of a Rayla pov companion fic to the prequel of this story, [Upside Downtime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498751/chapters/67241653). It's fully compatible with this story’s continuity.

10.01AM, January 22nd, 0AB, Minuata Island, Xadia

The water was _objectively_ beautiful. Sparkling translucent turquoise, like Callum’s second-favorite watercolor, after the dark orangy one.

The waves were lapping at the white sand.

Ezran and Zym were escorting baby turtles to the shore, because they had heard from Tarrel that there was a kind of lizard that ate them sometimes, and now they had appointed themselves baby turtle protectors.

There was a breeze rustling the palm fronds above them.

The Tidebound elves controlled the currents, the ocean temperatures around the island, and it was such a contrast to the cold and merciless sea a bit out, the waves crashing into and over her, the cold pull from below-

This _whole_ situation was polar opposite to that.

But it felt the same, to Rayla.

It was dumb. It was obviously not dangerous at all. She used to go bathing no problem, especially in places like this where she could see the bottom. Not like she ever _liked_ it, of course. But she did it without this… resistance… or… dread. Or mind-numbing fear, was maybe more accurate.

The next gust of wind from the ocean, carrying the smell of salt water, made her shiver.

Callum’s stroked along her arms and up her shoulders, feeling the bare skin without the bandages in the way. They removed the last of them this morning, there was nothing stopping her from going into the water for a proper wash, even by Callum’s fussy standards. No fever. Just her stupid lungs and shoulder and wrist, which could damn well fall in line and get better, because she needed to be better. Callum needed her to be better so he could stop _worrying_ so much.

“Are you cold?” Callum asked.

Rayla shook her head tightly.

Callum’s hand tightened around her good hand, too tense a grip for a pretty morning on a pretty beach with nothing wrong.

“Are you _scared?”_ he asked.

“Yes! Clearly!” she snapped. “But I’m dealing with it!”

Callum did back off, but only on the surface. She could feel his worry, his eyes on her.

The soft waves lapped at their feet, when they reached the wet sand near the water’s edge. The water was _warm_. Warm and friendly little waves, really. It was all _her,_ making it feel _not_ like that.

She looked down at their feet, their mismatched toes. Despite her best efforts, hers twitched every time the water hit them.

“Hey. We don’t have to,” Callum said. “ _You_ don’t have to. I can go down there alone, or we can both stay up here and Ethari and Ez can go-”

But she did have to, and that was an unhelpful thing to say, when she really _did_ have to, and Rayla defiantly stepped into the shallow water, only ankle deep, that was _nothing-_

They had things to do below the ocean. A mess to fix. A Tidebound library to visit, an ocean to cross and a Sunfire staff to retrieve.

Her toes were sinking slightly into the soft sand. Like the pull down, except it _wasn’t_ and she-

Callum never _got_ have-to’s, and this was one of them. She was already afraid of Viren, she couldn’t be afraid of water too, and they were on an island, which they would have to leave at some point.

A bigger wave hit her all the way up to her knees and she squeezed her eyes shut, because she couldn’t _look_ at it. She felt nauseous. Cold. Like the pull from down below the ocean she had… was _still_ somehow fighting.

Her breaths were too shallow, she wasn’t getting enough air and her legs weren’t working at all because the pull was too strong… and then she wasn’t on the ground at all for a few moments… then dry sand around her feet and no water anymore but the pull _down_ was still there, the ebb and flow of the waves she couldn’t control.

But warm arms around her. “It’s okay.” Callum’s familiar voice, but she… she didn’t want him down there with her, and he- “Breathe.” But she couldn’t. “You don’t have to do this.” But she _did-_

And Callum’s arms around her were too _tight,_ and she couldn’t even pull away, he was stronger than her right now-

She couldn’t _breathe-_

* * *

Rayla sank down against the palm tree. She had kinda… fled.

And she was barely even a mile down the beach and her lungs were burning in that not-just-exercise way from her brisk walk and her legs were shaking under her and… she really was completely useless _and_ the worst intended in the world.

She couldn’t even remember exactly what she had said, but she could tell she had shouted, because her throat hurt, and that she had upset Callum who was just trying to help, because her heart hurt.

She had just reacted, just _needed_ to get away. Yelled at Callum to go away when he had followed her.

There was a familiar concerned whine, and familiar but _bigger_ scaly head laying gently down in her lap. It was weird to think _all_ of Zym had fit in her lap a year and a half ago.

She patted the side of his neck and ruffled the fur.

“Sorry Zym. We’ll make up, okay? Sometimes people argue, but me and Callum will be okay. I just needed… a break. From-”

From what?

The pressure?

The hovering?

The… _attention_ on her every move, her every expression of fear or pain.

Yeah, that last one sounded about right. She knew Callum _meant_ well, but she couldn’t do what she needed to do _and_ assuage _his_ worry-

Zym was cocking his head at her, that gesture she knew meant a question. “Eeeee?” he hissed, the tone going up at the end, confirming the question-part. ‘Me’?

“Not from you, no,” Rayla reassured him, leaning forward to hug the big head. “I really missed you.”

* * *

Ethari wasn’t up here, but down in the Tidebound city under the sea, in the center of the atoll, and he was busy, the metal he needed for the arrows was scarce here, and he was actually… _making_ the metal? She wasn’t sure how that worked, but she could gather it was difficult and time consuming, because he had looked tired last night and been up and gone… back down there, before she woke up.

But she couldn’t tell him to relax, because they needed to write Corvus again, meet up to get the cube at least, if Corvus really didn’t want to leave his post in the Earthblood forest. They needed to find out about Aaravos, and the cube was part of that, like the library below the ocean they needed to visit.

She really shouldn’t be bothering him just because she wanted to… well, she didn’t even know, and she was _still_ on her way into the seashell where the communications pipe to the underwater city was. He would be okay with it, but-

But nothing. Ethari was her dad, they had agreed.

“Ethari?” Rayla asked, into the pipe, barely hoping for an answer as she leant against the wall.

But it came, and right away. “Rayla?” Ethari’s deep, gentle voice, making her instantly feel calmer.

“You’re busy?” She could tell he was, and she was not a child, she shouldn’t be-

She was _his_ child, though. “I messed up,” she continued. “And I can’t… I couldn’t go into the water, I… kinda freaked out.” They could have been down there already, they could have been visiting Ethari’s underwater forge right now, if not for her outburst.

“I’ll come up to talk?” he offered, and instantly too. Give me thirty minutes to not leave anything flammable and-”

“No, I… no. I’ll come down.” She _would._ “I just… we’ll be late. And I might be… not in such a good mood.”

Ethari’s fond sigh was like a comforting caress. “You know, I didn’t _expect_ you to be in a good mood? You haven’t been this angsty since the Summer of 996.”

“What?!” Rayla said, full of fake outrage. “I’ll have you know, I was _delightful_ during the Summer of 996 _._ Just a simple elven girl, discovering the joy of the simple things, like menstruation and slamming doors!”

“I didn’t say you were not delightful. Although could have been kinder to poor Runaan’s feelings-”

“ _His_ feelings… pffft,” Rayla snickered. “Pretty sure _I_ did all the crying.”

“Oh, Runaan cried. At least a few times that I know of, because of _you._ ”

“What-”

“Not because of anything you did wrong!” Ethari hurriedly said. “Because you were upset and he could not fix it. I think… that was the main thing, actually. Last time was after your parents were thought traitors. _He_ made you go to school, _he_ lectured you about not getting into any fights. You got assaulted and just _took it_ and he thought himself a failure, unsuited to raise you.”

She definitely knew Runaan had been _angry_ with the douchemuppet formerly known as Vareil, had gone to his house and apparently been so scary that doucemuppet hadn’t even dared to _look_ at her for the rest of the school term. She didn’t know… he had been so _upset._

“Of course, then he got up the next day determined to do better, determined to let you redeem your parents’ betrayal,” Ethari continued. “He fought the council to let you come on that mission, because you were under the age of majority. He could not bear to see you scorned and mistreated when he knew you were…” _Better than this._ He had said, in the dream.

“What I was getting at was that… Runaan didn’t see you the way you were, see _all_ of you, but… you didn’t see all of _him_ , either.” There was so much _longing_ in Ethari’s voice that Rayla wanted to cry right on the spot. But she didn’t, she listened, because Ethari didn’t have anyone else to talk to about these things, because Moonshadow elves didn’t do that kinda thing except with… spouses. And that was just it, wasn’t it? Ethari continued, confirming it. “But I did. At least… more than anyone else alive. I saw him cry or… felt it, at least. Always deep in the night. Always so quietly he could deny it. Muffled against my chest. He thought he needed to be strong, with you. Firm. That that was what you needed, how he could do the best he could for you.”

“I _was_ a handful,” Rayla snickered, a bit wetly. Not _really_ crying.

“You were _our_ handful. A privilege to hold. Always that. And we were proud of you and love you. Always _that,_ too.”

She sniffled. “What possessed you, getting this sappy on me?” But she knew what. “I guess dying fucks everyone up.”

Rayla closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool surface of the seashell wall. She thought Ethari had gone back to the metal-making, when his voice exited the pipe again. “We got a bit derailed, I think?” he said gently. “Do you want to talk about it? The water?”

Rayla shook her head before she remembered Ethari couldn’t see her. It felt like he was there even though he wasn’t. “No,” she said. “I just… wanted to talk. With you. About… anything, I guess.”

“Any _time,_ Rayla.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

Rayla sat down next to Ezran, Bait and his turtle buddy, or rather, slumped down, without any grace at all.

“Hey Ez. Bait. And…?”

“I call her Jacinta,” Ezran said, smiling up at her. “After the orange flowers out by the cliff point. She likes it. She made a hole for Bait to live in because he didn’t have one, which was so sweet of her, and it filled with seawater so now Bait has his own little bathtub!” Bait did look as happy as Bait ever looked, in his beach hole with a pool of water at the bottom.

“Hi Jacinta.” Rayla patted the coarse shell.

“She’s very old you know?” Ezran said. “Animals usually aren’t. But Jacinta is… I’m not sure exactly how old, because she doesn’t think about time like we do. But I can feel it. And she says she remembers Tarrel being smaller than me. And that it wasn’t that long ago. Soooo… _very_ old.” Jacinta cocked her head at him, slowly. “Sorry!” Ezran amended. “You look _great!_ Besides, you’re only as old as you feel, my dad said. When I thought I was getting too old for goodnight stories, but I was really only _saying_ that because one of the noblemen’s boys had said that, I didn’t _really_ want him to stop, and-”

“I feel old, sometimes, Ez.” Ugh, that was… too heavy. It had just slipped out, too, and Ezran deserved better than heaviness, after all the liquid shit he had gone through lately.

But Ezran cocked his head at her and scooched closer. “Yeah,” he said seriously. “Me too. It’s really weird. Sometimes I feel like a kid trying to be an adult, and sometimes like an adult trying to be a kid.”

“Sorry for being a downer, Ez. It didn’t… go that well, with the swimming.” Rayla reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “But you like it here?”

“Yes!” Ezran said, his wide grin chasing all the heaviness away. “It’s amaaaazing! Tarrel knows the _best_ swear words! And you met Jacinta, and she’s really nice, and she’s gonna get her friend to come visit and-” Ezran looked up at her though, concerned. “But it’s not… fun. For you.”

“No. Water. No fun. Wet.”

“0 out of 5 stars?”

Rayla smiled, as his hand, definitely bigger, came out to hold hers. “Maybe one star,” she smiled. “Because _you_ like it. That’s worth something.”

“You don’t have to… always put other people first. You’re scared, I can tell. Like… _really_ scared. And that’s okay too. If you’re more scared now, too scared to put the fear away and do stuff anyway.”

“Callum is… he’s trying but… I wasn’t very nice.”

“He was making it worse, I saw. By being super fussy and bringing more attention to how scared you are, and holding you so tight you couldn’t do anything and being so scared of _you_ being scared he’s not… letting you be scared? Maybe?”

Well, yes. Exactly. “Maybe. Or… definitely.”

“So you should tell him that,” Ezran said. “He really _would_ do anything for you. Even let you go. He _did_ , back in Katolis.” And it backfired spectacularly, and now he was…

He was scared too.

Ezran squeezed her hand in comfort. “You wanna start off slow, go into the shallow water with me and Jacinta?”

She _really_ didn’t, right now. She didn’t want to upset Ezran, and now she was actually scared of getting scared. Completely circular.

“Not… yet,” she managed. “I need to… talk, first, I think.”

To Callum, definitely. He was keeping his distance though, up along the beach with Zym and she didn’t think he was angry with her but… maybe a bit of distance was a good thing.

Tarrel then, she thought, who was still up here when he had a home and a boat and things to do, still… offering to listen, like he had since the first.

She had to do _better_ , and that meant doing… worse? Weirdly? It meant being a burden on more people.

* * *

Tarrel was up on the beach today, currently mending one of his nets, patiently working and never looking up from his task, but… that task was not why he was here.

He was here for a reason, and she had a sneaking feeling it wasn’t to hang out with Ezran and Jacinta or repair his fishing gear, but because Ethari _wasn’t._

He was keeping an eye on her, he was just far, _far_ less in-her-face about it than Callum.

He smiled at her when she sat down next to him in the shadows of the palm trees, but didn’t otherwise react, turning back to his work.

It took her a few tries to get started, so she was pretty happy he wasn’t looking at her or had stopped what he was doing.

“Tarrel?” she asked, eventually. He looked up from his net immediately, but his attention was without pressure. She had no idea how he managed that, it was like some Tidebound magic of very chill, kinda… _weightless_ interest. “I get that to a Tidebound elf this might not make sense at all. It’ll be… the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.”

“I was in politics, kid,” Tarrel snorted. “Try me.”

“I’m scared of water,” she said, some remembered… second-nature shame making her looking down and away from him. But she continued, and that was something, at least, even if she had to look at her feet to do it. “A lot. And I was, even before I drowned. Just a lot more, now. It wasn’t… paralyzing… before. Not like it is now. I used to be able to ignore it, I was just stressed and uncomfortable while I did what needed to be done, but now-” She looked back up at Tarrel. He wasn’t laughing, even though this would have been akin to someone telling her they were scared of trees or grass or air. “I couldn’t do that, earlier.”

“You want me to tell you the sea is not dangerous?” Tarrel looked serious now, gentle but… not a hint of humor, for once. “You know it is. You felt it.”

“No. Wouldn’t work, anyway. It’s not… it doesn’t _make sense,_ how I’m afraid. I’m afraid to go into the shallows with Ez and a friendly turtle. And Callum and you, right there. It’s very much not-dangerous, _that_. Even if it was, it’d make no sense…”

“Yeah, you don’t really subscribe to being afraid of dangerous things, do you?”

“Not… so much, no. And I’ve _talked_ about it, and I hate talking about my feelings, and I did it anyway, because Callum and Ez are all about that-” She shook her head, frustrated. “But it didn’t really help, taking about me being scared. Didn’t make any more sense to me why I am.”

Tarrel looked thoughtful. “Maybe… Listen? Instead? I _love_ the sea. Maybe it won’t go away, how you feel about water? Certainly, it won’t just because you wish it to. It’s there, what happened to you. It’s never going to have _not_ happened. But the ocean… it’s so much more than dangerous. And maybe some of those other things, beautiful, wonderful things… they can cover it up? Or mix with the bad to dilute it a bit?”

Callum had said that too, something like it, anyway, with the paint-

“I’m… I don’t fully _remember_ ,” she explained, because this bit… complicated matters. “Being in the water. I just have flashes, the whole world narrowing to pain and struggle and cold. And the waves crashing over me, over and over and never letting me rest or feel the fear fully- it was a long time and I barely remember any of it.”

“No. You do,” Tarrel said, sounding very sure. “Memory is more than your head. Your heart and your body remember being so afraid for so long.” That… made sense. The memories were not in her head. So talking about it wasn’t helping because her head was not the problem.

“How do I _fix_ it, then?” she pleaded. She couldn’t just… _be_ like this.

“Always in such a hurry, kid.” Tarrel shook his head, but then turned to look towards that terrifying blue expanse he loved so much. “You don’t feel the weight of the world, down below the ocean. Your intended can fly, but that is not the same, he still has to contend with the forces dragging him down, has to continually fight to stay up. In the water, you are… free.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t like that,” Tarrel added, a bit grimly, although she didn’t understand why. “We don’t like foreign things, usually.”

Oh.

Tarrel continued though. “It’s beautiful. So beautiful. You would not see the colors as I do, your eyes don’t filter out the blue naturally, but if you brought your own light down there, diving at night under the light of the moon or used an illusion light? You would see it. Colors and textures overlapping. The light filtering down, moving with the shift of the currents. Up here, things move faster. There’s no rhythm to guide you, so people rush about and rush into things. Like you, never quite listening to your body. Like all those people in the war, striking first and striking back.”

They were trying to _break_ that cycle. You had to _wait._ Trust. Not strike back.

She was trying to break another cycle too, had since Callum had sobbed in her arms on top of the pinnacle and she knew that she… she had to change. Had to not die, because it fucked everyone up.

And it scared her but… she did want to see it, too, what Tarrel described. And she wanted Ezran to see it, all those new friends to meet down there, and Callum to see it, always so curious about everything.

“Will you show me?” Rayla asked, because although the thought filled her with dread it was… not _only_ dread.

“I would love to show you. Because, kid? You carry too much weight. Move too fast.”

* * *

Zym gave her a ride most of the way down the beach, this time, which was nice, because if she did as Tarrel had advised, and listened to her body, it was telling her to collapse right about now.

She found Callum under the same palm tree, where she had sat.

He had really been _so_ sappy he had sat in the indent in the sand she left?

Or… so _upset_.

“Callum? I’m… I was… I came here to-”

He got up, looking at her, hesitating. Upset. Definitely. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone.”

“No! That’s not what I want at all. Unless that’s what _you_ want.”

“That’s pretty much _never_ what I want.”

“I’m sorry. Just… stay? Listen? I don’t… I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t even fully remember it, I was-” Rayla shrank into herself, because that was no excuse at all, just an inadequate explanation. But he deserved whatever explanation she could give. “I was… I was so scared.”

“Can I hug you _now?”_ Callum asked, or rather, pleaded.

She stepped into his waiting arms, putting her head against his shoulder.

“I want to hug you most of the time,” she muttered, pressing close to his warm skin, burying her face in his neck. “I just… I just reacted, back there.”

“I understand, I do. Panicking like that.” She knew he understood that. It hadn’t happened often, and he said it did more, as a kid but… he really did understand, probably better than her. And he knew because he had panicked and reacted with anger too, after the Spire. Back on the pinnacle, he had shouted at her, tears streaming down his face, just… reacting to something horrible. And later, after maybe his worst ever nightmare, he had backed away from her and shouted again and… he really _did_ understand.

“I know you understand, because you told me… you still remember every detail of that moment where I went over the edge. It hasn’t gone anywhere. But you said it got better, that you painted different things on top, like our first date up there, where you figured out that you like my… spontaneous and assertive nature.”

He smiled warmly. “No, I knew that about an hour after meeting you.” “But you’re right. You painted over the darkness with beautiful you. That’s how it worked, for me. Like that ugly painting we found in the dungeon. I just need some… quality opaque paint.”

“So maybe it will work like that… for me too. But you gotta let me stay in the bad stuff, let me have a chance at seeing the good, not sweep me away at the first sign of bad stuff.”

“A little is okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So… you need some beautiful thing… to do with water?”

“Yeeees?” she answered, just slightly suspicious, because of that tone to his voice-

Callum’s smile became wide and some spark entered his eyes and… oh _no_. “Well, you did ask for this. I don’t know if you’ll think it’s… beautiful _exactly,_ but-”

Yeah, that… that was the dumb idea face. Damnit. “What?”

“Remember how, back on the Storm Spire, we entered into an agreement that _I_ wouldn’t practice landing on a moving object or casting spells while in freefall in return for _you_ not doing double shifts on new moon week or sparring with Aloysius?”

“That hasn’t changed!” She asserted, very firmly. “That ‘moving object’ was a Four-horned Bog Rhino that almost gored you!”

“And Aloysius broke your ribs! On _purpose_!“

“Cracked _one_ rib.”

Callum swallowed his retort, almost certainly something to do with the ‘mildly-stabbed’ debacle. “Well, my point is that we’re no longer at the Spire,” he said. “Aloysius is not ever going to be in a position to spar with you again, and you’re not a Dragonguard anymore, so no shifts. So I really think we need to dissolve that agreement.”

“ _What_ are you planning, because I swear if the moving target is Zym-”

“Uh, what if the moving target was a turtle? Or ideally, a dolphin, but I’m willing to start off with the turtle. I should probably have led with that, but Ez talked to a turtle and some dolphins-”

“Callum, you’re not serious?!”

“No!” he laughed. “Of course I’m not serious, what I’m proposing is completely ridiculous, that’s the _point_! I’ll look _really_ stupid?” He came forward to take her hands. “That’s part of it, the paint. If you have a bunch of memories of your dumb boyf-” He smiled when he remembered that wasn’t right anymore, and raised her hands to kiss the back of her right and then the fingers of her left under the edge of the brace. “-your dumb _intended_ faceplanting off a turtle-”

Maybe silly, fluffy paint could paint over darkness, too.

Was worth a try. Definitely, part of her wanted to see the turtle surfing.

So did Ezran and Tarrel, apparently. They had brought out crispy little crackers and they had some kind of yellow fruit juice with fizz and ice curtesy of Callum and they had a comfy sponge couch and really, all they needed was a show.

Callum _did_ look really stupid.

Callum was amazingly talented, and succeeded on his third attempt at turtle surfing, but even _successful_ turtle surfing was more ridiculous than a majestic triumph of aerial maneuvers.

 _Failed_ turtle surfing was… yeah. Beautiful in its ridiculousness.

The most talented human mage in existence, slipping on the shell, making big splashes.

Callum was laughing too, when he rejoined the audience of her, Ezran, Zym, Bait and Tarrel lounging in and around one of the giant sponges. He was soaking wet, but triumphant.

“You looked… like…”

“A drunk owl?” Callum snickered.

“If the owl was a really dorky owl, yeah,” Rayla grinned.

“Owls have really tiny brains under all those feathers.” Ezran supplied, always helpful with animal facts and tag-team roastings.

“Still some daylight left,” Callum mused, looking out over the water. “I could-”

“No,” Rayla said flatly. “No flat mage.”

“Now, kid,” Tarrel interjected. “Callum sounds like he has an idea for act 2-”

“He _does!_ A dumb idea! He wants to generate enough upwards momentum to dispel the wings, cast a spell and then get the wings back before he’s a flat and dead mage!”

Tarrel looked horrifyingly intrigued which was just… Wasn’t he supposed to preach caution and not moving too fast?!

“But I would do it over the water,” Callum protested.

“ _I_ fell into water too,” she reminded him, and he seemed to sober a bit, because he had read Volum’s patient logs about her and knew the damage that impact with _water_ had done.

Tarrel looked thoughtful though, and not in a good way. “Lad, if you want to practice spells while in freefall and do it safely…ish, I can make that happen for you. See, there’s a spell that can aerate water. The kids use it for cliff diving, because by lowering the density of water, you lower the rate of deacceleratio-”

“Tarrel!” Rayla snapped, glaring at the grinning old man. Why?! “Don’t give him ideas!”

She couldn’t remember it, the impact… but maybe her body could, because it made her curl around herself, thinking about it and Callum curl around her because he noticed and his tolerance for her distress was at an all-time low at this point, not that it had ever been high.

Her not entirely successful attempt to take a deep breath was _because_ that ‘rate of deacceleration’ had nearly killed her and that some of the damage it had done to her lungs was still there, and the thought of _Callum-_

But she breathed, as deeply as her imperfect body allowed, and stayed in the bad feeling and got used to the idea of Callum… falling from the sky and plunging into the depths.

Safely-ish was the best they had _ever_ been able to do, really.

* * *

The sun was going down, the moon rising soon.

The water was almost flat like a mirror.

Callum was _not_ flat, but _was_ three for four on the freefall spellcasting, and the ‘one’ had only made him wet, thanks to Tarrel, and had also been his first attempt, so… it really _had_ been fun, watching attempts two through four.

It was just her and Callum left in the sponge, Ezran had gone into the seashell to sleep in a pile with Bait and Zym, and Tarrel back down there, where _they_ needed to go. Tomorrow though, it was too late, today.

But still… there was something she needed to do _today_.

And no better time than the present.

“Come with me,” Rayla said, determined, pulling just far enough away from Callum’s embrace to gesture at the shimmering sea. “I could definitely use a proper bath.”

“Now?! You’re… you want to-”

“Yep.” She put her head back against his chest where being vulnerable was always easier. “Just… I need to ask something of you?”

“Anything,” Callum said. “Just… tell me.”

“Okay. Don’t hold onto me. In the water, I mean. I _usually_ like it, but-” But not when she was somewhere where she wanted to be able to get out at a moment’s notice, when her body was already protesting the change in gravity, the pull, the loss of control- “But don’t… _go,_ either.” Why did her voice have to sound so small?

Callum kissed the top of her head, and yeah, he lingered overly long and was reluctant when he drew away.

But he _did_ draw away, and then released his hold on her, changing his position, his hands light against her arm and hip, but not encircling her, not gripping her. “Like this?” he asked. “You can still hold onto _me._ As much as you want.” He slipped his hand into hers, but didn’t grip it, keeping his fingers loose.

He was trying really hard but… his _heart_ was not in his words, and that was so unusual for Callum that it rang in her ears like a discordant bell.

Rayla reached up to stroke his unhappy brow. “The full truth?”

“This is hard for me.” She knew. He had exploded at Ezran in the courtyard back in Katolis, that had been his desperate heart, straining against what his head knew to be sensible, and it still was, just worse now for him, like it was for her. “I know you… you _didn’t_ jump off that cliff. You didn’t accept death, when many others would have. You fought the sea and then fought death. And you stayed down when others needed you. I know it’s probably good for me to practice this… holding you less… desperately.”

“Your _head_ knows that,” Rayla said, leaning her forehead against his. “Let’s work on your body. And mine.”

The stepped towards the ocean hand in hand, for the second time that day.

It was horrible. Wet. Pulling at her feet with its little invisible currents. Making her feel floaty and out of control and like she might barf. Stinging in the healing cuts at her shoulder. Hitting her with little splashy waves that made her flinch.

She didn’t panic though, and Callum didn’t sweep her away.

She stayed in the bad feelings, stayed in his loose embrace.

His smile was proud.

His kiss was soft and sweet.

Hers wasn’t.

The best of paints, really.

Bonus art of Callum and Rayla in Tidebound clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and can still remember where the story was at, haha! There was a summary of the entire season 4 storyline in the between-seasons intermission chapter, if you need to catch up.
> 
> Up next: Callum and Rayla spend their vacation... at the LIBRARY! And Corvus' solitude is interrupted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is really welcome, even if it's negative :) 
> 
> New chapters Tuesdays in even weeks.


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